Fallout: The Broken Road
by Jshep16653
Summary: She is a courier with no memories of her past and enough skills to work as a one-woman army. He is a Traveler with strange stories and a desire to find someone he lost. Together they will shape the future of New Vegas. Kings will be toppled, Nations will tremble, and the dice will roll for death. Both their roads lead to the same destination, war. Because war, war never changes.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: From the Grave

In the Mojave, there are several ways to get into the massive city known as New Vegas. You can take the Long 15, hoping and praying that you don't get viciously mauled by deathclaws, detained by NCR, or eaten by raiders. Then there is the scenic route. It covers several well known towns, tourist attractions, and considerably less death things. If you take the scenic route, then eventually you will find yourself at a little place known as the I 88 trading post. It is a nice little hamlet where all sorts of interesting things go on. Trading, angry brahmin fights, NCR patrols, angry mercenary fights, you name it. Needless to say, there is plenty to see when visiting.

That explains why Veronica is bored. There is no other way to put it. Bored. Maybe she could add some more exciting words to it. Dreadfully bored, devilishly bored, sexually... not that... well you see... crap. She huffs and crosses her arms. Yep, she is bored out of her mind. Standing around a major trading post of I 88, one would think they would see at least some interesting people, but no. Only tired Caravaneers and destitute NCR soldiers. Well, there are those strange siblings who run the trading post, but they don't do much aside from talking strangely, staring at people, and fixing anything that turns up broken for a rate that is way through the roof. She still isn't convinced that the two aren't scamming everyone.

At this point, she is almost ready to pack up and head back to the bunker. With her tail between her legs. Her head hung. Her shoulders slumped. A pitiful little puppy frown on her face. She can already hear the speech the Elder will give her when she gets back. He will be all like, oh, we have to stick together and follow the old ways. It is the best way for our family to survive. You are too nice and cheery and blah blah blah. Seriously, that man needs to write the inspirational vids they use for power armor training. His monotone voice and overbearing attitude would really do the them justice.

Nearby a Caravaneer is attempting to coax his old Brahmin into getting up with the heavy load on its back. She watches the man curiously. The man is gently pushing against the mutant cows flank, and every now and then putting his boot against the base of the animals spine and applying a bit of pressure. Despite all the man's persistence, the Brahmin shows no signs of getting up. In fact, the lazy animal even goes so far as to look at the Caravaneer with both of its heads and moo at him in annoyance. Eventually Veronica grows bored, ugh, even more bored, with the pairs antics and turns her attention back to the road. She sits bolt upright on the picnic table bench she is sitting on as she sees a group walking up the slight incline leading to the trading post.

There are six of them in all, most of them looking like more Caravaneers, but it is the man at the front of the group that has her attention. He is tall and clad in an old duster with multiple tears and patches all through it. His head and face are concealed by one of those desert scarfs people use to keep the dust out of their faces whenever there is wind or a storm. Beneath his coat there is a sort of armor that reminds her slightly of the gear she has seen the NCR Desert Rangers wearing, only this stuff looks sturdier. The man is heavily armed with a lever action shotgun holstered at his hip right next to a large knife, a pair of revolvers on his gun belt, and a bolt action rifle with a new looking scope slung over his shoulder. She also cant help but notice the sword right next to said rifle. The blade has a pair of feathers handing from the hilt that look to have come form a hawk or crow. Upon noticing them, she also notices a band around the mans right arm with similar feathers attached to it.

As she watches the man pushes back the scarf on his head revealing long dirty blond hair tied back with a woven headband. The man then reaches up and pulls the rest of the scarf from his face. He has a chiseled jaw and proud cheekbones. His nose is slightly crooked, it has probably been broken numerous times. He is wearing a dark pair of aviators and thus she cannot see his eyes, which makes him look all the more intimidating. His mouth has a well trimmed goatee around it. She decides that, for a man, he is attractive. the only diminishing factor is the thin scar running along the lower left side of his jaw. Veronica watches the man closely as he goes over to one of the Caravaneers and says something. She can't hear the conversation from where she is sitting, but it looks as if the two are haggling. The Caravaneer shakes his head a few times, but then the strange man says something that makes the trader deflate and wordlessly hand over a small bag of caps. The man takes the bag and turns his back on the trader. Veronica is surprised when the man drops a few extra caps into the bag and tosses it back to the Caravanner with a laugh and a smile.

The Caravaneer, and Veronica, are shocked by the strange mans generosity. Well, Veronica thinks, the trader doesn't even know about the extra caps yet. She watches the strange man approach the weird siblings, but quickly excuse himself after speaking only a few words with them. Her heart almost stops as the man begins towards her. She swallows hard, suddenly losing all her nerve at the prospect of talking with this strange person. He sits down opposite of her at the picnic table and removes his sunglasses. He has light blue eyes. They sit there, awkwardly silent, for a few seconds, before the man says, "Hi."

"Hi," and suddenly words are spilling out of her mouth. "My name is Veronica and I live in a hole in the ground, well technically it is a bunker but my way sounds way better. I was sent out for some supplies. You don't look like a caravaneer, and you are certainly way more interesting to look at than the rest of the slumps around here. You look like you have had a tough journey. Where are you from?" Bad girl, mentally smack yourself for that! Ow! Not that hard!

The man's face takes on a strange expression. When he speaks his answer is cryptic and his accent foreign, "From the grave."

His reply sends shivers down her spine. "Um, wow, I guess a really hard journey then. Yikes. How did you manage that? You know what, not really my business. If you don't mind my asking, where is a person who comes from such a hard path planning on going?"

A small smile plays across his face. "No real destination. I just sort of pick a path and go. Recently, that path has seen fit to lead me towards New Vegas where I just happen to think I might find someone I have been looking for. That said, the path may decide that I never arrive at Vegas, who knows. I am something of a wanderer."

"Wherever the wind takes you huh? I can work with that. How would you feel about taking me on for a little while. I promise not to be a bother or slow you down. I'll carry my own weight and everything." There, that should convince the stranger I barely know to take me on, she thinks with a smile.

The man looks her over. His gaze is appraising. Despite her training, she finds herself squirming beneath his scrutiny. His eyes are so intense, as if he is looking into her soul and judging her for all those times she sneaked an extra dessert ration from the kitchens. She wants to curl up and look away from him, but somehow she manages to hold his gaze. the whole time he does not blink, weird. He lets out a short grunt like noise, not very polite, and seems to come to a decision. "All right, you can tag along for a while. Just so long as you don't cause too much trouble."

She beams. "Great! Since we will be traveling together now, can I ask you something, on the level?"

He lifts an eyebrow, making him look very inquisitive. "I hope constant questioning won't be a problem with you, but ask if you must."

Un cowed by his remark, Veronica rambles on. "Have you ever heard about a group calling themselves the Brotherhood of Steel? I had a run in with some of their people a while back and they struck me as sort of strange. I've been asking around, but folks around here all seem to think they have died out."

The man's eyes narrow slightly and she finds herself making sure the power gauntlet on her arm is ready for action. "Why do you think I would know anything about them?" his tone is just absolutely dripping with suspicion. She sends a silent prayer to whatever deities exits that he isn't some Brotherhood killer.

"Well," she says slowly, "you have an accent that I don't recognize. So I was assuming that you aren't from the Mojave area. Figured you might also have a different opinion about the group."

His voice lowers as he speaks. "I know that the Brotherhood is a powerful group of remnants from before the great war. They have access to some of the better technology in the Wasteland and many are devoted to the collection and protection of said technology. They believe that the best way to protect people from the dangerous tech is to take it and keep it out of civilian hands. Often, they are correct. Their goal is to help, that said, they are not above killing if they decide that laser rifle you have should be in their hands instead of yours. I myself have had a few run ins with them, usually they are reasonable enough. Does that satisfy you?"

Veronica is impressed. Not many people know that much about the Brotherhood. Most of what you hear from common folk is either that the Brotherhood are all bad and selfish, or that they are some form of of saviors. She can't help but wonder how this guy knows so much. then she remembers that he is a traveler and that travelers often come across lots of information about various groups. "So, you are not against them?"

"Like I said, most are reasonable, and I have worked for them a few times in the past. However, when they are not reasonable, hope you have some heavy weaponry. If not, try and get around behind them, from there you may have a chance to slow them down or disable them completely. Just try to hit some piping or valves, or if you are really good, aim for the fusion core." Veronica is again impressed, and a little worried. This guy knows a lot, like a whole lot. More than just a simple traveler should.

She decides that this guy is, however, okay enough for her to tell him. "All right, promise not to kill me, the reason I asked about them is because, I'm a member of the Brotherhood. I know, I know, how could I be so misleading? Well some people are not friendly towards us, especially the NCR. A person can't be to careful. So, are we still good?"

At first, the man has no reaction that she can tell, and she isn't really sure that is a good thing. "So, am I supposed to be surprised by this?"

Well, she certainly is. "Wait, you knew?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I assumed. You said you live in a hole in the ground, or a bunker. Not many people live in bunkers any more. Most vaults are empty and you don't really strike me as the type to have come from a vault anyways. Most of them are crazy. Then you asked about the Brotherhood, major give away. That, and you kept nodding at all the little bits of information I gave you, like you already knew about it. You should learn to watch your body language."

Okay, so he notices little things. shit. "So, we are good right. You are not going to like, try and kill me or anything are you?"

A mischievous smile plays across his face. "As long as you don't try taking out my brain spine and heart while I am passed out and then introduce me to a group of scientist brains preserved in floating computer monitors, we should be good. Honestly, I have been all over the place from the east coast to here and never have I experienced anything as weird as all of that."

What she thinks. "What?" she asks.

He shakes his head and runs a hand over his head with a laugh. "Good, that answers my fears that you might try something like that. Now, mayhaps we should get going, yeah? Lot of road to cover. Lot of time for the path to throw some crazy shit at us. Besides, I feel better now that I know you have had some training."

"Training, right, I can hit things, like, really, really, hard. It helps that I use the power gauntlet." This gets another smile out of the man, good, it is best that he gets to like her early.

"So, where is your bunker?" she looks at him with a little bit of worry. He lifts an eyebrow, "Didn't you say you were sent for supplies?" Oh, that...

"Well, it is a big family, they will do fine without me. Besides, they may well be happier if I don't come back all that soon. I think they send me on these missions just to keep me out of their hair. I have some ideals that don't sit well with most of them. Is, that a problem?"

His smile widens, "You are trying way to hard to make yourself seem like a nice person Veronica. Stop trying to butter me up. I already said you could tag along, whatever it is you are scheming to get us involved in can wait until you get enough confidence in my skills and yours to talk about it, deal?"

Wow, this guy really is smart. He figured her out already and they have only been talking for a few minutes. "Deal," she says as she shakes the hand he offers. Then something occurs to her, "Um, in my haste to get on your good side, I must have missed your name."

The man stands and looks back the way he came. When he speaks his voice is husky and dry, "Well, that is something people would want to know, isn't it? Names mean a lot. I have earned quit a few over the years, lobotomite, Seeker, Hero of the Wastes, Messiah, murderer, Gallows Hawk, but the people who know me and who I respect can call me Nick."

"All those impressive titles, and you go with Just Nick, not even a last name?"

He looks at down at her, "Just Nick. Until you earn my respect, or we get to know each other better, you will refer to me by my most recent of titles, Traveler." He starts walking and for a few seconds, she follows in silence, slightly put off by his not respecting her yet. Then something he said registers with her.

"Wait, how could you have been lobotomized and yet still be speaking with me without speaking nonsense?"

He has already re wrapped his face in his scarf and when he looks back at her, all she can see is her own reflection in his shades. "Apparently, there is a wrinkle in my brain from where I once suffered a serious head injury. It is sufficient enough that the Lobotomization process didn't work all the way. If it interests you, My heart, spine, and brain have all been replaced with mechanical parts. My brain, a very stingy bastard I might add, is happily floating in a jar of jelly back down the road a long ways."

She stops dead in the road as her mind tries to work out the implications of all that. If it is true, it could be the technology she needs to bring to the Elder, if not, then it simply isn't true. Yet her thoughts all lead her to spitting out a singular conclusion. "Bullshit."

Nick shrugs his shoulders and continues walking. "Believe it or don't, up to you really. I suggest, however, that you keep an open mind. You will find that the road has taken me a lot of strange places. Now that you are with me, you may well end up somewhere just as strange."

* * *

The Courier watches through the scope of her rifle as the Legionnaire patrol slowly approaches. Beside her Boone flips the safety off his rifle. "Range?" she whispers.

"1,000 yards and closing, just outside of effective range. Can still take the shot, your call." His voice is just as low, only it has none of the emotion in it. The Courier weights her odds. The Legionnaires are within range of her rifle, but to fire now would give away their position too early, not to mention give the nearby NCR forces enough time to investigate. Maybe it had been a mistake not to involve the NCR with her plan, surely they would have benefited from knowing about the enemy on their doorstep. No, they would have just thanked her and told her to get lost, and that would help no body. A few more minutes pass and she decides the distance is suitable. She takes a steadying breath, zeroes in on her target, and squeezes the trigger.

The Legion scout's head vanishes in a spray of red. The others in the patrol scatter, diving behind any nearby cover. They don't know where the shot came from, allowing The Courier to kill two more before they figure out her position. A few volleys slam into the rocks they are lying pron on and Boone begins to fire with his own rifle. Three more Legionnaires fall before the final two get smart and stay down. "They are not likely to move from there for a while. This will become a very long stand off." Boone's words reach her, but he may as well have not said anything because she is already moving.

She ghosts down the embankment, slipping from place to place, always staying out of the Legionnaires line of sight. She flanks around their left side, then shoulders her rifle and draws her two .44 magnum revolvers. Stepping out from behind cover she makes quick work of the soldiers, putting expertly aimed rounds through each of their skulls. Spinning the revolvers around she holsters the twin guns with a flourish. She signals all clear to Boone and pulls her hat off her head. Whipping the sweat from her brow she takes a sip from her canteen as Boone steps up next to her. "By my count," he states in his usual flat tone, "you took five and I three."

The Courier scowls, "I took six, that other one died of a heart attack before your bullet even reached him. An attack that my superior skill induced." Her voice is light and teasing, but the former Sniper does not return the jest.

"If that is what you think." He turns and begins to search the dead men for any useful gear. The Courier throws up her hands in defeat. Three months! Three whole Months working with this guy and he still doesn't seem to like her. Usually she would have anyone else wrapped around her little finger by this point, but not this guy, oh no. All he can seem to think about is the wife he assumes is dead but has no proof and killing Legionnaires. Well, his lust for Legionnaire blood is the reason she chose him for this mission, but still. At leas she had convinced him to help people after the attack on Bitter Springs. Yet he still insists on putting on that stoic tough guy routine. At least she had managed to pick up on the fact that he does have a sense of humor, he just flat lines all his words so it seems like he doesn't.

Shrugging the thoughts away she starts to search the nearest body. As always she finds herbs and water, but no substantial medical supplies. The Legion does not believe in the use of drugs, and it seems that would include stimpacks and any other healing chems. Oh well, not like she is really hurting for the stuff, ha, hurting, she will have to remember that one. Eventually she decides that the Legionnaires have nothing of interest to her. She sits down on a nearby stump and watches as Boone meticulously inspects each and every body. She once asked him why he bothered searching every single person they killed, something he always insists on doing. His answer was that you never know what you might need later. That is true, to some extent, but seriously? Every single fricking body?

After a few more minutes she lets out a bored huff. Boone looks up at her. Despite the dark shades the both of them are wearing, she can tell her message got through, hurry the fuck up asshole. Boone looks over the last body and stands with a simple nod, the only signal that he is ready. Damn his over effective combat training!

The Courier stands up from the stump and checks her pipboy. Boone once chastised her for depending on it way too much. He claimed that she ought to know how to figure out directions just from looking at the sun and other landmarks. She defended that she could do just that, it is just way easier to use her pipboy. Their patrol is almost over. So far they have managed to cover a lot of ground in a very short amount of time. Avoiding both the NCR and Legion camps has proved trickier than she anticipated, but all has gone well. Three dead Legion patrols and No angry Bureaucrats waving forms for her to sign, so yay! Honestly, working for Mr. House has been a whole lot more rewarding than she originally anticipated.

Sure, they guy who runs Vegas is basically a computer screen, but who the fuck cares? He can pay, she wants caps, he is a computer, she has legs. It is a win win situation all around! "What do you say we cut this short and start back for Vegas now instead of in the morning, eh Boone?"

He levels a blank look in her direction. "If that is what you think."

"Seriously?" she complains, "Not even going to go on about how we have a job to do and it would be wrong of us not to see it through to the end?" She looks at him with a pleading expression. He looks back at her with no emotion at all. "Fine," she shouts, throwing her hands up in the air, "you win! We will finish the patrol and head back in the morning! Should've brought Lilly, at least she can hold a fucking conversation, provided I don't use works like fuck."

Later that day, after finishing their patrol, which proved to be just as dull as the Courier predicted, they sit at a small camp eating cold pork'n'beans. In the silence, her mind does what it normally does, it begins to wander. She finds herself reflecting back on the first night she can remember. Strangely enough, it wasn't that long ago, maybe less than a year. Doctor Mitchel in the town of Goodsprings had been tending to a head wound she suffered. According to him and all the other settlers, she was shot in the head by some guy in a checkered suit, buried, and then dug up by a cowboy securitron who witnessed the whole thing. After that dump truck load of information, coupled with the fact that she was unable to remember who she was, where she was from, or why those men tried to kill her, left her in a bit of a daze and in need of some fresh air.

So she had sough out solitude on top of a nearby mountain. She found that she somehow knew out to climb with ease, just like her mysteriously good shooting skills she had discovered earlier that same day while hunting giant Geckos with a woman named Sunny Smiles. According to Doctor Mitchel, she retained a lot of basic memory, like speaking, eating, killing, but personal stuff was locked up somewhere in her head or just missing. Lying on top of that mountain, staring up at the stars, she had cried. Tears for who she once was, tears for the people who may have cared for her, tears of pain from the wound in her head.

Now those same emotions and concerns are swimming around in her head and keeping her awake. Damn it all! She is the Courier, the mother fucking mail woman of death. She works for Mr. House, they only guy she has met who is concerned about the people of the Mojave instead of his own political gain. She is feared by the Legion, respected by the NCR, the strip families all respect her, even if they lie all the time. She found the guy who tried to kill her, and she killed him back. She killed him real good. Hell, she is even an unofficial member of the Desert Rangers for fuck's sake! So why the hell are tears for a life she has no memory of falling down her dirt and blood caked cheeks? Eventually she manages to do what she always does, cry herself to sleep.

At first, her dreams are fitful and stuffed with terrifying images. Then, like a lantern in the dark, a small light pierces the night from far away. The light grows steadily brighter, driving the nightmares away, until it becomes so dazzling that she has to squint. In the distance she can make out the landscape of a tightly packed and ruined city. Rising up above the rest of the buildings is a tall structure that she somehow knows is a memorial. The place, it looks so, familiar is where she is from? The shape of a man breaks away from the landscape and approaches her. The light casts him in shadow, but she knows him, and he knows her. Without speaking a word, she hears his message. He is coming, she just has to wait a little longer. She promises, she screams her oaths. She will wait till the world finally ends for good if she has too.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Of bubblegum and haters

Traveler shifts his weight from one knee to the other as he slowly turns the roasting gecko over his small campfire. He has seen a lot of strange animals in his travels, giant fire breathing ants, giant flies, giant scorpions, even a radioactive robot, but the giant geckos found all over the west just about take the cake. They come in all sorts of sizes, shapes, and some even have weird powers, like breathing fire. A smile appears on his face as he imagines the egghead who created the fire breathing ants somehow having something to do with the fire breathing geckos. Across the fire from him Veronica turns up her nose. "You are actually going to eat that? I thought you were screwing with me."

He chuckles and cuts a small slice off with a bone handled knife. He looks Veronica in the eye, and pops the meat into his mouth. He chews slowly, savoring the look on her face as her jaw drops. He laughs again and replaces his knife. "The look on your face. Ha, priceless. But you are right, I really shouldn't eat this, not yet, needs to cook a little more. Also needs some seasoning, maybe, the blood of a newborn child?"

Veronica's eyes go wide and she scoots away from him. The laughter that overtakes Traveler causes him to double over and clutch his side. "Oh very funny," the Brotherhood scribe pouts, "make fun of the naive girl from the bunker. I see how it is. You should know that we only eat processed or boxed foods. It is a much better way to insure that a person stays in the peek health than eating whatever meant you happen to shoot down that day."

Traveler attempts to catch his breath and speak, "How long have you been on the surface?"

Veronica's pout deepens, "I have been on the surface bunches of times before, just never for very long. Never had to worry about eating anything but the rations given out in the bunker.

Traveler wipes some moister from his eye as his attitude changes very suddenly from smiling happiness, to an almost mournful expression. "You make due with what you have. I know from experience what it is like, learning to put aside some your inhibitions about food, killing, and surviving." He looks at her from across the fire. "Do you remember the first person you ever killed? Have you ever killed?" Veronica nods her head but does not speak. Traveler's eyes become unfocused. "I can't remember my first, but I can remember one specific person." Again he trails off into silence and Veronica finds herself leaning forward, waiting for him to continue.

"I know that had I killed before, but the person whose death I recall most vividly is a woman's named Silver. She was a junkie living in a cluster of ruins not far from a settlement know as Megaton. At the time I was fresh in the wasteland, having been raised in a vault before, and I was out searching for my Father. The man who was owner of Megaton's bar had some information, but his price was too high. So instead, myself and these two mercenaries set out to kill Silver and collect the caps she owed to the bar owner. There was a scuffle with some raiders first, but we eventually managed to find her hideaway. When she saw us, she went psycho and attempted to kill us with a scatter gun. I remember lifting my pistol and pulling the trigger the first time, and the second, and the third. I kept shooting until the gun was out of ammo. By that point, there was nothing much left of her head and torso."

Traveler again focuses on Veronica. "Strange isn't it? I recall killing a woman I barely knew, but I have already forgotten the faces of the first two people I killed with the very same gun I used on Silver and that I still carry with me. Yet those two were men I had known all my young life in the vault. It took me forever, but I eventually realized why I remember her and not them. It is because I wanted to kill her. Those men, it was either them or me, but Silver, I wanted to hurt someone when we finally came across her. That scuffle with the raiders I mentioned, well, there was a lot of torture involved as well." Veronica shudders to think about what this guy means. "Silver was right after that, and she gave me plenty of reasons to kill her. After that, Killing just got plain out easy. At some points, it was even enjoyable."

"Remember how I mentioned that I have a head wound, the one that allowed me to be lobotomized without loosing my senses?" Veronica nods her head slowly. "A head wound out here is serious, I am sure you can assume that, hell, even small scratches if not treated properly can turn deadly out here. I was injured about two years ago. I was on the same search I am now, only the road saw fit too lead me towards a place controlled solely by raider clans. I ended up captured by one of the worst warlords, one named Jimmy, I still don't understand the name. He was once a surgeon, but turned dark. He opened up my head and dug around, causing the damage. I still have the scar." he reaches up and unties the fabric band around his head, revealing a straight line running through his hair, starting above the temple, and circle around to the back of his head, if he wore his hair down, the scar would be unnoticeable. "I haven't been the same person ever since, have to be careful about making decisions. I get confused, can't tell reality from my own crazy. So, if I ever get up and walk off in the middle of the night, I guess you are on your own." The fire crackles and he examines the gecko. "Good, dinner is done."

His gaze never leaves Veronica. It is impossible to miss the shudder that goes through the robed woman. He realizes that he is frightening her, but that is a good thing. If people are scared of you just from your look, then you have a chance to make them back down and avoid bloodshed. It also can't hurt that he often comes across as a little unhinged. He leans forward and cuts another slice of meat off the gecko. This one he offers to Veronica wordlessly. After a second's hesitation, she reaches across and takes it from his hands. She chews it without complaint. The wanderer cuts himself and large slice and sits back to eat it. As he does he reflects on his reason for coming this far west. A woman. Why is it always about a woman?

He remembers her voice, always so cheery and filled with life. He has chased her all across the wasteland. Jane, the courier of information. When they first met, he had just rescued her from Supermutants and she was in such a panic that she attacked him. He smiles, she is a firebrand, that is for sure. After everything that happened back home, he wanted an escape. She showed up and offered him the job of protecting her as she crossed the entirety of the wasteland to preform her devilries. Then, almost two years ago, she vanished. He has spent the last three years crisscrossing the nation in search of her. Mostly due to a promise he made. A promise never to abandon one of his family members if they are in danger. He has lost a lot of loved ones, and perhaps he is overprotective, but he keeps his promises.

* * *

The Courier lets out a sigh of relief as she and Boone finally enter Freeside. Finally back into civilization. Down the street a thug is set upon by some members of the Kings and a little further a chem dealer is swindling some poor bimbo. Ah, civilization. The Courier flicks off the mercenary who offers to work as her bodyguard while she travels through Freeside and points at Boone, "No thanks asshole, got it covered." Boone scowls at her and she scowls right back.

The due make their way towards the local general store, run by two shifty brothers. Two shifty brothers who just happen to allow the Courier to look at their reserves stock whenever she wants because she is a loyal customer and brings them some very solid business on a regular basis. "Hey Mick, Hey Ralph!" She greets cheerily as she walks into the store. The two owners groan loudly as she enters. "Aw," she coos, "I missed you guys too."

Ralph walks to the front of the store with his arms crossed. "I thought I told you, Six, we are not going to do business with you or any of your, associates." He gives Boone a pointed look.

Okay, ever since she accidentally set fire to some of their hardware, maybe they haven't been all that friendly towards her, but they are men of business, and men of business all have on major weakness. She reaches behind her back and plops a fat purse of caps down on the counter. Both men appraise the purse greedily. Mick looks at his older brother and shrugs, "At least it will cover some of our more recent losses."

This piques the Courier's attention. She leans across the counter towards Mick, "Ooh, losses? What sort of losses? You two haven't been caught doing anything dangerous have you? I mean, the stockpile of secret weapons you won't sell to the casino bosses, the fake passes into the strip, not to mention the software for sexbots. Aside from that, what else have you two been holding away from me?" She can tell she has hit a sensitive spot. Ralph is as stoic and unreadable as ever, though he has nothing on Boone. Mick however pales noticeably.

"Our clients interests are none of your business, Six. We will sell to you, but no more acts of good will or favors. From now on, it is hard caps for our merchandise and nothing more."

That is not good. These two are actually some of the best information brokers around. Not a lot happens in Freeside without the two of them knowing about it. They have dirt on almost everyone, from the lowly squatter to the overbearing Kings. Having them on her side has been super helpful to her work for Mr. House. Of course they don't know she works for House, but that is actually one of her big secrets, sorta her ace up the sleeve she only ever uses when the hand she has been dealt absolutely sucks. She has to find a way to get back on their good sides, quick.

"Okay, okay, I get it. You are all steamed up about the fire. How about this, I pay for the damages, and put in a good word for you shop next time I am in the strip. Or if that doesn't work, I may be able to work out a trade deal for you guys with Crimson Caravan. How does that sound?"

Ralph smirks, obviously thinking he has the upper hand, "Sounds good, if you can pull it off. I would like to see just how you negotiate a deal with Crimson Caravan. Those stuck up bastards have always refused our offers in the past, so I highly doubt anything you say to them on our behalf will even get through their thick skulls."

"Aw, come now Ralphie, no faith in your favorite Courier?" Ralph rolls his eyes and listens to the list of supplies she rattles off before disappearing into the back to fill her order. Mick returns to his place behind the counter and the Courier is instantly bored. Fricking great. She sighs and sits down on a nearby bench. Boone takes his rifle off his shoulder and starts to clean the barrel. She keeps shifting position, trying to find an interesting way to sit that will occupy her thoughts, but to no avail. Somehow she ends up upside down and staring at Boone's boots. She lets out another sigh. Boone looks at her briefly, but then goes back to cleaning his rifle.

She sits back up and digs around in her backpack until she finds a holotape. She inserts it into the pipboy Doctor Mitchel insisted on giving to her after he dug the bullet out of her head. The holotape takes a few seconds to load, but then the game starts up, Red Menace. She naviagates the little vault boy around the map, avoiding the missiles and nukes the Red Menace throws or rolls at her. Eventually she beat the last level, for the third time, and stops playing. "Seriously, how long can it take someone to find a few boxes of ammo in their own freaking shop?"

"All of four minutes." Ralph replies, stepping out of the back room and looking at his watch. "You have no patience whatsoever, I don't see how you manage to work as a sniper of any kind, what with all the waiting you have to do."

The Courier pouts a little, "Being a sniper is fun, you never know when your quarry will show up so you have to be on constant alert, every little movement in the distance could be an enemy coming to gut you or your spotter, so it never gets boring. Waiting for a man to do a simple thing such as grab some ammo from a shelf is routine, you know what he is doing, and you know there isn't that much danger, so it is boring. Get it now?"

"I am glad you find my job so boring, Six," Ralph replies with snide, "the total is two fifty."

The Courier waves her hand dismissively, "Count the caps out yourselves, I trust Mick." Mick takes the purse of caps she left on the counter and she watches as he meticulously counts out the exact number. She spots him, 'accidentally', knock a few to the floor and count out a few caps extra. Lightning fast she whips out one of her revolvers and fires a single round. Mick's hair is brushed and the bullet splinters the wood of the wall behind his head. The man flinches and quickly drops the extra caps back into the purse. "Thanks Mick, knew I could count on you." Her voice still has that bubbly happy sound.

As she and Boone leave the store, she can hear the two brothers break into the start of what will surely become a heated argument about continuing to do business with her. A content smile graces her features and Boone regards her out of the corner of his shades. "You enjoy teasing people far too much. It will bring you trouble. It already has." As per usual, his voice is flat and humdrum.

The Courier raises a hand and mimics talking with her fingers, "Blah, blah, blah, blah, bla bla, blah bla. That is all I hear coming out of your mouth stick in the mud, seriously, loosen up at least once in your life. This is Vegas after all, you are supposed to enjoy yourself here, even in the seedy parts like Freeside." Usually, people know enough about her steer clear, but things must be very desperate or her reputation is slipping, because three thugs detach themselves from the shadows of a nearby alley and surround her and Boone. "And thing were going so smoothly." She sighs.

"Listen," One of the muggers growls in an attempt to be menacing, sorta hard when ones clothes are rags and the only weapon you carry is a rusty shiv, "we just want your caps, no trouble, and you won't be hurting afterwards, got it?"

The Courier rolls her eyes, "I don't have time for this, just get out of my way." She shoves the mugger aside and starts walking.

"Oh no you don't!" The mugger lunges at her from behind. She sidesteps and puts her leg out to trip him. The man face plants on the sidewalk and blood spurts from his nose. The other two muggers decide she is a bigger threat than Boone and rush her at the same time. Neither of them get the chance to even raise their weapons before they are looking cross eyed at the twin revolvers pushed against their foreheads.

"Think boys," Her voice has lost the bubbly enthusiasm it had before, "thing real hard about your next little flinch, it could well be the last one you ever get in before I repaint the walls behind you red." Neither mugger moves a muscle. "Good," she coos softly, "now I am going to step back, don't either of you move now." The steps back and holsters one of her revolvers, keeping the other trained on the two men, and neither are stupid enough to think they might be able to take her now that she has only one weapon ready. She reaches into her pocket and removes a Lucky 38 playing chip that is red on one side and black on the other, "Lets leave it to fate shall we?" She flips the chip and catches it in the same hand. Red. "The three of you are lucky men indeed, now run along."

The holsters her second revolver and the two muggers still standing gather up their broken nosed friend and hurry off back down the alleyway they first came from. The Courier watches them go. "Do you think it was right to let them go, even though fate decreed they live?"

Boone crosses his arms, "If that is what you think."

"Ugh," she throws her hands up, "there is no talking to you, honestly."

Boone shrugs his shoulders. "What exactly did you purchase in the store that cost you so many caps?"

The courier smiles and digs around in her pack until she finds one of the valuable boxes. "Bubblegum!" She squeaks excitedly. "I have been craving a chew for days!" The rips open the box and pops one of the over sweet sticks of chewable candy into her mouth. "Mmh, that hits the spot." Boone stares at her wordlessly, before shaking his head and continuing towards the gates into the strip. The Courier smiles at his back and blows a small bubble. "Stoic hater."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Broke and The Dead

In Freeside, there is a run down casino where those not well off enough to get into the Strip can gamble their fortunes away. The Atomic Wrangler. For a place that is seen as being a last option, it still has many amenities for its patrons to make use of. There are table games, slot machines, twice a week there is a show of some sort in the main lobby, and there are prostitutes, so all in all not a bad place. Much better than some of the other places in the wasteland, at least in Tyler's humble opinion anyway. Far as he is concerned, as long as a place can supply him with good chems, a solid drink, and a mattress to sleep on, it gets five stars.

Also, he has been here for three days and not one person as told him to scram. Normally most places he goes to don't want him there on account of his looking like a corpse. Even more places have straight up rules about it, no ghouls, at all. So far, the further west he has come, the better life has been. There are still bigots of course, but people around here are too damn focused on their own misery to even notice if the person drinking next to them is a ghoul or not. Not to mention that being a ghoul actually brings a level of respect. Folks think all ghouls are ancient, ageless relics, but Tyler has only been a ghoul for a few years, and finds that being shown a rare sign of respect is actually sorta nice.

Beside him his business partner lets out a low gurgle and shifts his position on the bar. The man has been passed out for most of their stay here in the Wrangler. Tyler is slightly amused, but also concerned on some level. Years ago his partner would never have touched a single drop of alcohol, now you can hardly keep the man away from the stuff. Tyler reaches over and pats his partner on the shoulder, "Hey, dickhead, you still alive?" The only response he gets are a few mumbled words he can barely make out, at least the guy can still make noise, that is a good sign hopefully.

Tyler tuns his attention from his partner back to the ghoulette sitting a few tables away. She is dressed much like a cowboy, long duster and boots, wide brim rawhide hat, and a revolver at her hip. Tyler is pretty sure she is one of the Wrangler's working girls, but he isn't yet sure enough to pursue her attentions for a few hours. He knows that some of the Wrangler's more regular customers have some odd desires, as demonstrated by the protectron sex bot, and he has to wonder just who wants both a ghoul and a cowgirl? Also, where the hell did the Wrangler's owners managed to find that sort of person? Tyler makes up his mind that he is willing to risk being slapped and is going to go talk to the cowgirl, when little annoyance shows back up.

"Tyler," Her voice is snappy, like she is cracking a whip, "Where is my jet?" Tyler lets out a groan and turns on his stool to face Kc. Exactly two months, four weeks, and five days ago he and Luther picked her up in the Mojave. They found her wandering around aimlessly. She was incoherent and her feet were torn and bloodied from walking without shoes. Luther patched her up and informed Tyler that the buns on her arms and legs came from a live grenade going off. When she came too she panicked and attacked them. Tyler has been in many scraps in his life, but this tiny little girl put up more struggle than he has ever seen. When they finally calmed her down, and cleaned their wounds, she explained who she was.

Born and raised as a bastard child of some clan from the area, she and some of her people were out foraging for food when they were set upon by raiders. Both Luther and Tyler were confused until she explained that this happened to her years ago and that she had been on her own ever since. She claims to have no desire to return to her clan and only wants to live long enough to get her next fix. Tyler assumed they would leave her to her own devices, as did Luther, but the bitch just stuck around. She attached herself to them and has been following them around ever since. So much for her being a loner.

So far, she and Tyler have had only the one physical fight, but he knows that another is coming soon. They have been at each others throats from day one. Stealing chems, arguing about where to go, just being mad for no reason. Honestly, Tyler can barely stand the girl, and Luther is too drunk to even care. "I didn't take your damn jet, Kc, why would I bother with that stuff? You know it is all but useless for ghouls. Now, if you ever get your greasy little hands on some ultrajet, then we may have something to talk about."

Kc huffs and her nose goes up into the air, "I wouldn't share chems with you if you were the last person in the wasteland. I wouldn't even give them to you if my life depended on it! And I sure as hell would not tell you if I got some ultrajet! That shit would be mine and for no one else, now where is my fucking psycho!"

Tyler lifts a brow, well, he would if he still had eyebrows, but the expression is still the same. "Psycho? I thought you were looking for jet?" He leans towards her and squints. Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy, signs of a slight withdraw, or perhaps a switch to something new. "Are you tripping, or are you on a low? I can't tell with you smoothskins anymore."

She puffs up her cheeks and her arms clamp against her side, making her look like a little child throwing a fit, which is actually exactly what she is. "It does not matter!" Her voice is raised and several other people in the casino turn towards the commotion. "I need my chems and I cannot find them! You are always taking them for yourself! Now where are they!"

Tyler starts to shout back, but is interrupted by Luther somehow lurching to his feet towards Kc. His partner drapes an arm around Kc's shoulder and leans against her, the little girl can barely hold up his weight. "Hey," he slurs, "what is with all the fussin? I was tryin to sleerp. Sleep. Drink can't a man in peace?" Luther's face contorts and he hurls up the contents of his stomach, all over Kc's front.

Tyler throws back his head and howls with laughter as Kc launches into an all out verbal assault on Luther, pushing him to the ground and letting him fall in a heap. He orders a fresh round and offers a drink to Kc. The girl sneers at him and knocks the glass out of his hand. "I don't want any of that poison. Look what it does to him!"

"Hey!" Tyler turns to look at the person addressing him with some annoyance. "I am getting sick and tired of the three of you causing so much trouble in my place!" The man is familiar, but, ah shit. This is James Garret, the owner of the casino. "I want you and your two associates here gone, now."

Tyler holds up his hands in a pacifying gesture and nods, "All right, all right. I get it, we cause trouble. We also have caps." Tyler pats his pockets and his heart sinks. "Um, actually, no we don't."

Garret's face twists. "You don't have any caps? You have a running tab that you have put everything on. We don't normally do tabs, but you assured us that you would be able to pay. I want my caps! And I want them now!" Garret reveals a small silenced pistol from the front of his suit and aims it at Tyler's chest.

Again, Tyler holds up his hands in a pacifying way, "Calm down, no need for this to get crazy." Faster than the eye can follow, he reaches out and slaps the gun out of Garret's hand. He steps forward and headbuts the man, snapping his nose and sending blood spraying down his face. Garret grabs his face, howling with pain, and falls onto his back. Tyler steps over him and grabs Luther from the floor. "Get our shit." He orders Kc. She starts to protest, but at a look from Tyler she shuts up and runs to get their things.

One of the bouncers has arrived and is standing in their way, effectively blocking the only exit. "Look," Tyler growls through clenched teeth, "I am an angry ghoul with nothing left to loose. No caps, no chems, and one hell of a withdraw. I can't even relax with a nice girl for an hour. I disarmed you boss and there is a sawed off hanging at my hip. The only weapon you are carrying is that assault rifle, which you haven't primed, and likely isn't loaded. Do you really want to do this? I sure as hell wouldn't mind a fight!"

The bouncer seems to be weighing his options. His gaze goes to Garret who is still rolling around on the floor and ruining the carpet with all the blood coming out of his nose. Kc returns with their stuff and her sub-machine gun in her hand. The bouncer reaches a conclusion and goes for his rifle. Tyler grabs his sawed off from his waist and pulls both triggers, shredding the bouncer's chest. Tyler does a quick look around to make sure no one else feels like going for their weapons. He steps over the corpse of the bouncer and out the casino door into Freeside.

He picks an alley at random and moves down it until he finds a building with an open door. He steps inside the ruin and immediately heads towards the stairs. Again he picks at random and steps through another door into a small room. There is a large hole in the roof that looks up into the night sky and the room itself is barely furnished with some straw piled into a corner, a rusty bathtub, and a busted sink with a shattered mirror above it. "This seems nice." He drops Luther unceremoniously on the floor and walks over the the pile of straw. He unstraps his metal chest piece and sets it against the wall. he eases himself down onto the straw and smiles. "This is nice."

Kc stands in the doorway of the room and looks around with a sour face. "This is nice? It is like a dump compared to our room in the Wrangler."

Tyler cracks open and eye. "Yes, but it is better than sleeping on a pile of rocks out in the Mojave. It is also better than lying in a shallow grave with a dirt blanket. And it is even better than the bottom of a cell or the inside of a deathclaw. So, take your victories when you can."

He lies back down and closes his eyes. He can hear Kc drop all their stuff on the floor and sit down in a corner. For a few blissful moments she is silent, but then, "What did you do with Luther? He isn't here." Without opening his eyes Tyler waves his hand towards the rusty tub. He hears Kc get up and go to investigate the pre-war luxury item. "Why is he in the tub?"

Tyler grumbles, "Because he feels safe in them for some reason. If there is the option between sleeping in a tub or sleeping anyplace else, he will sleep in the tub. I thought he kicked the habit back in the Capital, but it seems to have come back to him along with his drinking." On cue Luther sits up and crawls out of the tub and towards the pile of their things Kc left on the floor. He grabs his bag and drags it back to the tub with him. There is a slight pause, but then the sound of a bottle cork being popped open followed by the sound of a man chugging as much whiskey as possible. "Sweet dreams asshole." Tyler murmurs before rolling over and going dead to the world.

* * *

Veronica stops just short of walking into Traveler's back. She starts to protests, but he shushes her and indicates for her to get low. Instantly she is on high alert. She follows as Traveler moves into the bushes and watches as he removes the long rifle from his shoulders. She looks out from the shrubs they are concealed in and squints at the horizon. Moving her eyes back and forth, she sweeps the area ahead of them, but cannot see anything. She looks up at Traveler again, but he is still looking through his scope, unmoved from when she first looked away. "Traveler?" she asks in a low voice.

"Shush," he responds in a hushed tone, "they are moving in this direction. They smell like the color red. Nasty little candies they are. Can never tell when they may just pop up out of no place." Veronica listens to him, looks out at the area head of them again, and then comes to a conclusion. Traveler is insane. Making her eat that gecko was one thing, sometimes saying strange things is another, but seeing things that are not there is totally wrong. Veronica sighs and starts to stand. Without looking away from his weapon Traveler reaches up and pulls her back down, "keep your head down, you want to be a lighthouse or something?"

Veronica is about to demand to know exactly why they are crouched in some bushes that are starting to make her itch in places she shouldn't itch when there is a gunshot off in the distance. She tenses and again looks at the area ahead of them, this time searching a little harder. The silence stretches on however, and she starts to relax. Suddenly Traveler takes off running. "What the?" She jumps up and sprints to catch up with him.

Traveler is running hard, and outpacing her something fierce. How someone carrying enough weapons to open an arms dealership and wearing a heavy jacket can stand to run that fast in such heat when all she is wearing is simple brown robes and she is dying is beyond her. She sees him come to a stop ahead of her and go to his knee. In a blur he raises his rifle, looks through the scope, and pulls the trigger. The sound jars her to a stop and she stands there, her chest heaving and her lungs burning, looking for where his target is.

She walks up to him and, through the heavy panting, asks, "what the hell is all this about?" Traveler does not answer with words, instead he just points to something beside him in the dirt. Veronica looks over his shoulder and gasps. Lying there is a dead NCR veteran ranger. She can tell from his iconic armor and mask. "What killed him?"

"The red candies." Traveler responds as he stands up and shoulders his rifle, never taking his eyes away from something only he can see in the distance.

"What red candies?" Traveler points to a bag near the dead ranger and Veronica goes over to investigate it. it is a simple leather bag tied closed with red twine. She opens it and stares at the contents with unbelieving eyes. Inside are several small red pills. She takes one out and rolls it in her hand. "What are these?" Looking up she realizes that Traveler has set off in the direction he was looking. Taking the bag of pills with her, she hurries to catch up. "How did you know he was carrying these?"

"The crows told me." he responds without looking away from whatever has his attention.

"What crows?" He wordlessly points up at the sky to answer her question. Looking up, and shading her eyes from the sun, Veronica spots several black shapes circling in the sky above. "How could they know about the pills?"

"They saw him take one when he was shot. He didn't want to speak to the man who did the shooting. The crows saw and told me. Can't you hear them?" Veronica chooses not to respond. Somehow, Traveler knew that a dead ranger who they couldn't even see from where they were hiding before had red pills on him, and he claims that the crows told him about it. The lines between reality and crazy are suddenly starting to blur and she wonders if the birds actually talked to him, could they be mutant birds? Why didn't she hear the birds talking? And where are they going? Oh, this is where.

Before them is a dead man. From the looks of him he is a farmer. Yet lying beside him is a high powered anti-material rifle the likes of witch a simple farmer never would be able to afford. "This man is from the body of red people. He was sent out to scout the area without being seen. he saw the ranger and thought he would be able to get some information out of him. The ranger took the pills. The scout from the red people was disappointed, but now he is dead."

"Who are the body of red people?"

Traveler's face adopts a conflicted expression. "An army nation of slaves and conquered tribes. They are brutal in their ways, but they bring order and discipline to places that before lacked both of those things are were in a state of chaos. Many fear them, the bear fears them, but for now they are trapped on the other side of the Colorado."

Veronica realizes that the red people must be the Legion. That would mean that the man lying in the dirt before them is a Legionary scout. She may not be a fan of the NCR, but all she has seen and heard about the Legion makes them seem much worse. Do they really bring order to uncivilized places? Only small areas and skirmishes are the extent of her experience in the wasteland. "I don't think the ends can justify the means when the means are full scale invasion and forcing the people to adopt your customs or die."

Traveler looks over his shoulder at her, "You are entitled to your opinion, and I to mine. The road led us here, and the road wanted me to kill this man. Do not think that means I consider myself an enemy of the Legion. I have fought them before, and I have helped them. You cannot judge waters radiation level just from looking at it." He turns and starts back to the road they were on earlier.

Veronica looks down at the dead Legionary. Never would she have guessed that she would end up with a mentally ill philosopher. With a shrug of her shoulders, she rushes to catch back up with him. She looks at him again, taking in all the details of his equipment. He still looks to have been on the road for a long time, but her focus is now on the feathers. Two sets, on on the gecko skin armband on his left bicep, and the others tied to the hilt of the sword on his back. Looking up at the sky, she wonders at the connection he seems to have with the wasteland, and wonders what manner of event happened to him to give him that connection.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: History

Never, no maybe once before once, has Luther been as hungover as he is right this second. Sitting in the tub, the bottom of which is coated with his vomit, he can barely focus on anything as his head pounds, the world spins, and even his own breathing sounds way to loud. Not to mention the nagging ringing in his ears, and Jesus, or whoever runs the wasteland, why does Tyler have to clean his gun now?

The ghoul in question has dismantled the sawed off shotgun he has been favoring as of late and is currently scrapping any excess gunpowder our of the barrels. The sound of metal rubbing against metal is setting Luther on edge, more so than he already was, and his teeth are gritted in pain as he claws at his ears. "For the love of all things decent or right in this world! Can you please not do that right now?" Luther rarely begs, but he is begging right now.

Tyler glances in his direction and considers the plea for a moment, before continuing to clean the weapon. Luther groans and somehow manages to get to his feet and stagger out of the bathtub. He has no memory of their getting here, or even why they left the Wrangler, but he assumes they are no longer welcome there and should avoid it for a few weeks, months even. He hopes that whatever happened wasn't his fault. Stepping out of the room he heads towards a set of stairs leading to the main floor. On his way down he passes an angry Kc. She grabs the front of his coat and shakes him, "You awake old man?"

Luther cringes and grabs his ears. A hiss of pain escapes from between his clenched teeth. He angrily shoves Kc off of him and proceeds down the stairs. He groans again as he hears the girl follow him down. In the main floor is a lounge like area where a few squatters are cowering and eating some rations the likes of witch he doesn't want to know how they obtained. All of them look at him in fear, as if he is going to steal their food and rape them. He bares his teeth and snarls in their direction. They scatter, crawling through openings in the walls and diving through windows in a panic. With a heavy sigh he drops into a now empty recliner and lets out a yelp of pain as a loose spring digs into his back. "Son of a whore."

Kc leans against a door frame and watches him with humor in her eyes. "You are a soft bellied bitch. One night of heavy drinking and you fall apart?"

Luther covers his eyes, the light coming in from a nearby hole in the wall seems blinding. "I have been maintaining a level of drunkenness for months. You could bottle my blood and sell it as a strong wine. Last night is the first time I have run out, this is the accumulated hangover of all those months. A single night would be nothing. If you were experiencing this, you would die. Now go away. I saw Tyler poking around in your bags, probably looking for your last..." Before he even finishes Kc lets out a string of curses and disappears back up the stairs, swearing that if Tyler has touched any of her stash she is going to gut him.

With a sigh of relief Luther relaxes into the chair. For five blissful seconds, there is silence. Then the silence becomes deafening. At least his head is slowly ceasing to throb, at least he things. How does one describe the descent from torture to slightly less torture?

 _Its your own damn fault!_

No.

 _Yes! Trying to shut me up with drinking! You are a pathetic excuse for a soldier!_

Damn it! Three months! Three whole months and he had heard nothing from the voice in his head. Now it his back? Shit! The drinking has helped. Keeping the mind in a state of hazy half awareness keeps all the dark thought and memories away. Damn it all, why did Tyler have to take them out of the Wrangler? At least there the booze flows freely.

 _Pathetic! You are a waste of human flesh! You would be better suited to serve as a cannibals last meal! Everyone you ever really cared about has either died or abandoned you! Your wife and child, murdered! The man who killed them, dead by your hand! Clayton, lost to the world! Nick, vanished! There is no one left for you to live for Luther. You should just end it all!_

Luther grits his teeth and stands up. There is no way in hell he is going to ever just die. He isn't going to commit suicide, and he sure as hell isn't going to just let someone put a bullet in him. Yet, if he is truthful, perhaps he has been trying to kill himself. All the alcohol, the careless fights, throwing himself at any and all enemies that come withing eyesight. Maybe, maybe the voice is right. What does he have to live for? For the longest time, revenge was what drove him to stay alive. With Colonel Autumn dead, and his family avenged, what point is there any more?

 _You see? You have wanted this. You want it all to end. Let me help you, I can end this all. No more nightmares, no more fighting, just emptiness._

Admittedly, that does sound good. There is a knife in at his belt, and a gun, not to mention plenty of other ways to kill. His hand seems to move of its own accord, reaching for his knife and pulling it out of the sheath. He stares into his own refection in the mirror of the blade. A thumb flicks over the edge and a small drop of blood appears. No, he thinks, this isn't right. The knife begins to move towards his throat, and he cannot stop himself! No, this isn't me! I am not doing this!

 _Let me help you._

NO! through sheer willpower Luther forces himself to re-sheath the knife. This will not do! He leaps up out of the chair and dashes up the stairs to their room. Tyler and Kc are shouting at each other, but he forces them apart and all but dives for his pack of supplies. "What has gotten into you, asshole?" Tyler's shout is ignored as Luther desperately digs through is pack for something to drink, anything! All he finds is an empty bottle of vodka. With a furious curse he throws the bottle against the wall where it shatters. "Shit, what the hell Luther?" Tyler grabs his shoulder and Luther reacts in a panic, driving his elbow back into Tyler's abdomen.

 _Thats it, try and drive me away again! You can't get rid of me Luther!_

Luther jerks away from Tyler and draws his knife again. "Your chems!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Give me a fucking fix or I will gut you like the fucking degenerate ghoul you are!" Tyler bristles at his words. Luther feels slight regret, but ignros it, he needs to do something before the voice takes control. Leaping past Tyler and a wide eyed Kc, Luther sprints out of the building, a single through making him move. A fix, a drink, a kick to the head. Anything will do!

* * *

The Courier looks up from the magazine she was reading to see a man wearing a long and tattered coat sprint by in a near panic. From where she is sitting she can hear him speaking in an almost desperate tone. He keeps repeating the same thing over and over. 'gotta get a fix, gotta forget, gotta escape!' She rolls her eyes and flips her magazine back up. She got used to crazy junkies running amok in Feeside years ago. Her plan was go just ignore the sorry excuse for a scaver, right up until he grabbed her and shook her violently, demanding to know where to get a fix.

Her instincts kick in and she does what they say, kick like a bitch. Her armored boot connects with him between his legs and he drops her. She expected that to give him the message, instead it barely seems to have registered with him. In a flash both of them have drawn their guns and both are aiming at the other's head. Neither of them move, save for the psycho breathing heavy and sweating bullets. "Chems, or booze, where can I get it?" His voice is scratchy and ragged, as if he has been shouting way too much.

Courier tilts her head to she side and tries to get a read on the guy from his eyes, but all she sees is a barely contained panic. She reaches three conclusions about him. One, he is not from around her or he would know exactly where to get both chems and drink. Two, he is well trained enough to be able to react quickly to a dangerous situation even while under mental duress. Three, He is on the run, either from people or himself. Despite the fact that he has a gun to her head, and she has one to his, some sort of understanding seems to pass between them and they both lower their weapons slowly. "I can give you some med-x, but in exchange I want to know who you are. Deal?" Her natural curiosity taking over again, damn it all, at least he is sort of attractive, for a guy who is probably in his mid to late forties.

The man struggles with the offer for a few seconds before nodding his head vigorously. "Fine, whatever you want." Courier nods her head and dips a hand into the satchel at her side. The man tenses for a second, but then relaxes again as she pulls the syringe of med-x out and offers it to him. He snatches it out of her hands and she watches him closely. Despite being in a near panic, the man admisters the drug properly. She has seen plenty of junkies just jab themselves wherever the nearest patch of exposed skin is. This guy rolls up his sleeve and taps the crook of his arm first to find the vein. Then he slowly presses the needle into the raised vessel and pumps the chem in slowly. A sigh of content escapes him as the last of the pain killer is forced from the syringe. He removes the empty needle and offers it to her, she shakes her head, "I don't want something that has been inside someone who I don't know."

The man shakes his head. "Just sterilize it with some alcohol or with heated water. If you are desperate you can clean it by passing it through a flame." The Courier is impressed, and her theory that is isn't just some junkie is confirmed. No crazy addict would know enough about medicine to tell her that. This guy knows about humans, how to fix them without causing more damage. Also, she can't shake the feeling that he is reading her much the same way she is reading him. "So," she crosses her arms, "what are you running from that you need a fix so suddenly?"

The man cringes, probably realizing that he did make a deal to tell her all she wants. "I, am not from around here." She has already guessed that. "I came west looking for caps. Back east, where I am from, the work for mercenaries as all but dried up due to military occupation. I won't bore you with all the details, but I have voices in my head from post traumatic stress. At least I think that is the cause. Or, I hope that is the cause. I really don't like the idea that I am simply insane."

Courier sits back down at the bench where she was before and pats the spot next to her. The man sits down without question. "You are from out east? How far east?"

The shrugs his shoulders, "About as far as you can go without hitting the ocean. Capital Wasteland, the capital of the nation that existed before the Great War. Good old US of A. I was part of a military group that claimed to be working to better the future of the Wasteland, but their principals were too extreme for me, not to mention they labeled me a traitor after they killed my family right in front of me. Hell, why am I tell you all this? A complete stranger? There are people who have known me for years who don't know the things I am telling you."

Courier smiles. "I have found that confiding in a stranger is often easier than confiding in your friends. With a stranger, you don't have to worry about the way they judge you, as you don't know anything about them and will likely never see them again. It is easier to pour you heart out to someone you don't have to live with every day and night of your life. My name is Courier by the way, what is yours?"

The man looks at out of the corner of his eye, "Courier? What the hell sort of name is that?"

She smirks, "Mine. I was shot in the head a while ago. Somehow I survived and was patched up by a doctor and a cowboy robot, but I have amnesia. No memory of before waking up in a shallow grave to a securitron digging me up. I can remember how to talk, how to eat, how to tie my shoes, and how to fight and kill, but nothing of who I am, why I was singled out as a courier, or where I came from." She trails off as she realizes the man is staring at her intently. "What? Is there something on my face?"

The man shakes his head. "Courier." He mutters the word under his breath, as if testing out how it sounds. "Couriers take packages from place to place, right?" Courier nods her head, wondering where this is going. "Would they ever travel as far as the Capital Wasteland on the east coast?"

Courier thinks for a moment. "I haven't actually spent much time as a Courier since I was dug up, but I imagine that is possible. A Courier could be hired by a private contractor to take something almost anywhere. Why to you ask."

The man squints at her. "Courier, I think I have some information about who you are."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Fiends

Traveler watches as the raiders pick through the belongings of the dead NCR soldiers. From his vantage point atop an empty ruin, he has a clear view of almost everything outside of the nearby NCR Stronghold, Camp McCarran. He spotted the carrion birds circling overhead whilst he and Veronica were approaching the outermost of the ruins. Internally he is chastising himself. Thus far he has had little trouble with raiders and thugs in the Mojave. There were a few small groups, but they are nothing compared to the armies that once inhabited most of DC.

He nearly walked right into this little trap point. If he hadn't stopped to think why the birds were still circling instead of feasting, he certainly would have ended up in a firefight. Having never faced the local raider type, he is unsure how hard a battle with them would be, and he isn't all that keen to find out. Idiot, think, don't get comfortable. This place is just as dangerous as the rest of the world, if not more so. From everything he has gathered from listening to traders and the Caravanners he has signed on with, the raider population in the New Vegas area is highly concentrated in the ruins surrounding the neon oasis.

The bastards here are known as fiends. They are not only junkies, but actually worship the high. They are led by some sick, twisted believe that to die while on a high is to get straight into something they call the eternal. They are dedicated to their mayhem, and they are all psyched up on some serious chems. Looking down at the group below him, he can believe it.

All of the fiends are clad in mismatched leather and metal. They have adorned themselves with animal skulls and bones. One of them has a belt of scalps hanging from her waist, another sports a collection of ears, and just from looking, one appears to have decided to collect fingers and eyes. These are gruesome warriors, and he can tell they enjoy battle. The group has a wide selection of weapons. Between the five of them, he can see six pistols of various calibers and makes, two lever action rifles, and even what appears to be an energy weapon. Someone is supplying these bastards.

"I don't have much love for the NCR, but this is just wrong." Beside him Veronica's face has taken on a slightly green coloration. At first he was worried that she would loose her stomach at the first sign of combat, but so far she has kept it together. Brotherhood training must be strict out here. "What are we going to do?"

Traveler considers. He is well equipped for a fight, he always is, but Veronica is still an unknown factor. So far she has done exactly what she promised she would when he took her on. She has carried her weight, and despite the nearly constant chitchat, she has learned when to shut up. However he has yet to see her in a fight and his unsure how best to use her skills. It would be best to just circle around the fiends and hope that this group make up the whole of their presence in this specific section of ruins, but that is a long shot. "We go through them, but we need to make this quick. Melee only, gunfire will draw too much unwanted attention." Veronica nods and activates her gauntlet.

Traveler reaches over his shoulder and draws his katana. The feathers tied to the end rustle slightly. It has been a while since he has used the sword, and it is hungry for blood. He can already feel its rage and lust for combat flowing through him. A steadying breath is taken, and then he launches himself out of the ruin and into the air. The blade sinks through the top of a raider as he lands, driving the fiend to the ground and impaling his sword into the earth. Before the others can react he stands and whirls, cleanly slicing off the head of another fiend.

Veronica steps into the fight, swinging her fist into the face of a fiend. The sound of the man's face splitting and crunching beneath the attack sounds along the road. One of the remaining fiends opens fire with a laser rifle, forcing Traveler and Veronica to take cover behind some ruble. The other fiend grabs a metal pipe and runs at Traveler from the side. Traveler braces himself, and when the fiend reaches him he kicks his feet out and uses the man's own momentum to throw him against a wall. Before the man can regain his senses Traveler sinks his sword into the fiend's chest, twisting to make sure he dies. A laser beam sears the wall next to his head and he ducks back down.

He rolls to the side and puts his back against a wall. More laser beams slam into the brick, sending up clouds of rust and burning mortar. He hears Veronica let out a pained cry and looks just in time to see her take a volley of laser bolts. Adrenaline rushes through him and he abandons his cover. Blood rushes through his ears as he charges forward, covering the distance between him and the fiend in a matter of seconds. The fiend's face is surprised as Traveler's blade bursts up through the side of his neck. He looks down to see the hilt flush against his stomach. Traveler holds the man's gaze as he dies. No one feels any pain when Traveler kills unless he wants them to. He twists his blade slowly. The fiend feels it.

Wrenching the blade out of the man and leaving him there to bleed out, Traveler rushes to where Veronica is lying prone on the ground. He rolls her onto her back and she moans in pain. She has taken three blasts. One along the side of her chest and two in the leg. Her chest wound is of no concern, it is cauterized and no bleeding, just burned. Her leg however is bleeding way more than it should be. He sheaths his katana and instead draws his hunting knife. Quickly he slashes open a section of her robes. A grimace crosses his features as he looks at the hole in her leg.

Lasers usually cauterize the flesh where ever they strike. The burn is extremely painful, but there is no risk of bleeding out. Sometimes though, the bolt can be under powered and not have enough heat to burn the wound enough. That is the case with Veronica's leg. Not only that, but it is far to close to the artery in her leg for him to ignore for now. Using a stimpack would be pointless, most of the stim cells will be swept out with all the blood she is loosing. He has to staunch the flow somehow. He can either remove her leg and attach a tourniquet, or...

Leaping up he runs to the now dead fiend and grabs the laser rifle from his hands. The dial on the side is set wrong, no wonder the weapon malfunctioned. Tweaking the dial up as far as it will go he returns to Veronica's side. She is conscious now and looking around in a haze. She locks eyes with him just as he aims at her. She instinctively throws up her hands to shield herself.

The red beam flashes through the air and Veronica screams in pain for just a moment before passing out again. Traveler tosses aside the laser rifle as the weapon starts to smoke, now useless. He grabs her leg and stretches it out its full length. The bleeding has stopped now, but the burn will be far worse now and it will likely scar permanently, but at least she keeps her leg. Shouldering off his bag he digs around until he finds his medical supplies. With the bleeding stopped he applies a stimpack, now the cells will be able to do their work. That should help with the burns. Veronica lets out a soft whimper and her eyes flutter momentarily. He has to get her to a doctor with real medical supplies. The nearest place is McCarran. Any plans of avoiding the NCR are abandoned as he pulls Veronica to her feet and drapes and arm around his shoulders.

As the limp up the road towards the camp his eyes are constantly moving. Scanning for any and all signs of movement among the ruins. That fight hadn't been nearly quiet enough to not get noticed. Someone heard it, and someone will be coming to investigate. Every shadow seems to be hiding a fiend. Every brick a gun waiting to be fired. The sound of distant feet stops him dead in his tracks. Up the road is a group of people. They are moving in their direction fast. Traveler pulls Veronica behind an overturned mail drop box and draws his revolvers.

The group is large, at least ten people if not more. Traveler is good, but even he cannot contend with that many at once. Thumbing back the hammers on his revolvers he gently pushes Veronica down further behind the mail box. The least he can do is draw whoever's attention that is away from her. Hopefully she will come to and be smart enough to get herself to McCarran. All he has to do is wait until he can identify the group. His eyes narrow, they don't look like fiends, and their formation is too uniform to be mercenaries. As they pass a lamp post that somehow has power he makes out the armor of the NCR. Apprehension fills him, but he knows he has to get their aid. Raising his guns above his head, he steps out into the road.

A soldier at the front of the group shouts an order and they come to a stop with weapons raised. "Freeze," A woman wearing a red beret shouts, as if he was moving in any way, "identify yourself!"

"I am a Traveler. My friend and I were headed towards New Vegas in the hopes of finding some work. We came upon a scene where some of your men have been ambushed just down a road a ways. The fiends saw us and attacked. My friend is hurt and needs medical attention."

"How many fiends where there?"

"Five, none escaped, but the fighting was loud enough to have drawn some attention." The woman in the red beret barks some orders to the rest of the soldiers. The group splits into two parts. One surrounds Traveler and helps Veronica up to her feet and the other continues down the road in the direction of the fight.

"I am Corporal Betsy, First Recon. You and your fiend there will be escorted to McCarren for questioning." Without another word the woman turns on her heal and rushes after the group headed towards the attack sight. Traveler regards the men left to escort, or actually guard, him and Veronica. Two of the four look like green recruits, one is a solid soldier, and the fourth looks to old to be running around and fighting. The NCR must be on its last legs if it has soldiers like this deployed into the field.

As they enter McCarren, the sorry state of the NCR only becomes even more obvious. The entire complex has a shambled look to it, as though it is only being held together by sheer force of will. From the looks of things, that willpower will fail here soon. The faces of the soldiers are all somber and bleak. Guards are slouched at their positions, fatigue showing one their faces. Recruits go through the motions of training, but it is only halfhearted. The rest all lay about with forlorn expressions. Like Veronica, Traveler has no real love for the NCR, but he has served with them, and seeing them like this is not exactly easy. "Trooper," he turns to one of the men escorting him, "who is in command here?"

The soldier regards him with suspicion. "Colonel Hsu." Traveler is, well he wasn't expecting that. Suddenly the state of the NCR has gone from bad, to worse. He knows Hsu. The man cares about his men, much more than many other officers do. If this is the state of his compound, then bad times must be an understatement.

"Whichever of you give your report to him, tell him that a friend from Two Bears is here." The soldiers are clearly confused, but do not question him. They take Veronica off in the direction of a field hospital and lead him into the actual compound. Seams McCarren was once an airport. The Terminal building operates as their base of operations. Inside he is lead to a small room with a two way mirror set into it. They sit him down in a metal chair and leave, not even bothering to take his weapons. Either they don't think he any danger to them, or they are careless.

With nothing else to do, Traveler begins to clean his weapons. He dismantles them expertly and spreads all the parts out along the floor. Soon most of the space in the room is taken up by weapon pieces. Time ticks by and he has cleaned all but one of his revolvers when the door opens and in walks a face from his past. Colonel Hsu enters the room with a folding chair in his hands. He sits down directly opposite Traveler and crosses his arms, worry making his otherwise youthful face seem old and weathered. Traveler remembers him full of energy and with a spark in his eye. Before him now is the person who has seen too many good soldiers die. Traveler supposes that he too once underwent that change. Everyone does.

When Hsu finally speaks, his voice is quiet and tired. "I don't have any living friends from Two Bears." He sits forward and studies Traveler's face. "Two Bears was a massacre. Fifteen good soldiers went in there, accompanied by three rangers and at least four private contractors. The clan they were meant to negotiate peace with took their numbers as an act of war and attacked before the negotiations even started. The narrow pass where the clan lived offered them an excellent firing range. The soldiers were torn apart, only three made it out, one disappeared and another died from their wounds. I was the third. So tell me, who are you to say you are a friend from Two Bears?"

Traveler steels his face. "First off, there were only ten NCR soldiers, one ranger, and two mercenaries, as well as a prisoner picked up along the way and dragged into the fighting. To call him a private contractor is an insult. As for the fight, the officer in charge of the operation never wanted peace. He went into the field looking for a fight and did nothing but provoke the clan leaders. The conflict is his fault, and no others. Those men died because of him. During the fighting, that prisoner managed to get his hands free of his bonds, grabbed one of the wounded soldiers as well as the officer in charge and carry them both to safety while bleeding from a wound to the side. That prisoner left them both in the hands of nearby NCR outpost before leaving. He was never supposed to be there, but lucky for you, commanding officer, he was."

Hsu's face is unreadable, but his eyes betray the deep sadness and regret that are at that moment tearing him apart. "So it is you. I live with the guilt of that day every hour of my life. I have tried to do better, I have changed, but here you are. So what is it? Here to make me pay for what I did to my people? Here to claim some revenge for dragging you into the fight instead of cutting you loose like I should have? What damn you? What?"

Traveler lowers his head and chuckles darkly. "That wasn't the only time we met, Hsu. We crossed paths twice afterwards, only you didn't know it was me. See I took the gear from that ranger that died, easiest way to cross territory controlled by the republic is too look like one of your legends. You and your men were actually saved by me a second time out in the Mojave. It must have been your fist combat experience with the Legion because once again you and yours were in trouble."

Hsu sits forward. "You still have not answered the question, why are you here?"

Traveler cracks a small smile. "Like you said, I am a private contractor. I am looking for work."

 **Hello eveyone and their friends! Sorry this one took forever, midterms and all that jazz. Some of the referances made in these last few chapters will soon be appearing in Dusty Old Stories, no I have not abandoned that idea, and I hope you will check them out. As always leave a review, your feedback is most welcome! Also, I am accepting requests for cameos from NCP's that you like from the game.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Jane

The elevator bings as it opens and The Courier steps out. The penthouse of the Lucky 38 has become something of her home in the past few months. Working for the man who owns Vegas does have its perks. She assumes that Boone is here. The two of them split up in Freeside. He wanted to report in, she wanted to have a smoke break. Lilly and Raul are probably here as well. The super mutant grandma always tracks down the old gunslinger and annoys him about his smoking habit. Her overbearing, yet sweet, affection is the major reason Courier always take smoke breaks away from the 38.

She looks around quickly before motioning for the psycho she met in Feeside to enter. When he first said he may have some info on her past, she laughed in his face, stood up, and walked away. She didn't make it one block before turning around and demanding that he spill the beans. The man refused to tell her a single thing until he got a fix of some sort. She had already spent most of the caps she had on her at Mick and Ralphs, meaning she would have to return to Vegas to get some money. The guy obviously doesn't trust her because he demanded to come along. At first she was wary about bringing a stranger into her home, but then she remembered that her friends where there and would probably help her if she needed it. probably...

Guiding him to a lounge she all but shoves him into a seat. He grunts and she isn't sure if it is from the impact of sitting down or in anger. Moving over to the liquor cabinet, a strong whiskey is selected and tossed to the man. She watches as he pops the cork out of the bottle with his teeth. He tilts the bottle up and starts to swallow huge gulps. Courier has seen plenty of drunkards in her day, the most notable being Rose, but man can this guy ever throw it back. His throat must have nerves of steel. Just as she thinks that the man lowers the bottle with a gasp and grabs his neck. "Damn," he croaks, "that is considerably better."

Courier grabs a chair and drags it over to the man. She sits down and leans forward expectantly. "So, gonna tell me what you know or what?"

He lowers his drink and looks her over. "My name is Luther by the way."

"I don't recall caring or asking."

The man gives her a level look and takes one more drink from the bottle. "Okay, before we get started I want you to realize that there are a lot of background details we are going to have to go over first." She nods her head and motions for him to continue. "All right," he leans back into his seat, adopting a comfortable position. "I first ever saw you in an area known as the Capital Wasteland. It is far to the east of here along the Atlantic coast line. The area is so named because it is near the former capital of this county, Washington D.C., I don't know what the D.C. stands for."

"At the time I was working with a young man Named Nick. He was formerly a vault dweller and needed a guide through the wastes. At first he was a burden, always getting into trouble and never able to handle a fight. After a few traumatizing experiences though, he turned into a cold killer, even colder than me at times. Nick started loosing sight of his mission, which was to find his missing father. Instead he became more and more like a wastelander instead of a vault dweller."

"Now, in the Capital Wasteland there are super mutants, as I am sure there are some around here. These uglies came from a vault that experimented with the FEV virus. They were completely feral and killed everything, nothing like other super mutants you can find around the wastes. There was a war being fought between the Brotherhood of Steel and the muties, and the muties were winning due to sheer numbers. They regularly took people hostage and dragged them off to who knows where for who knows what."

Courier gives a shiver. She has meet Super mutants before, and they are scary. The ones up in Jacobstown are all right and she has worked with them many times, yet they still give her the hibbyjibbys. Then there are the Nightkin, like lily. The Super mutants who are so used to using stealth boys that they hate actually being visible. The prolonged use of the stealth technology has altered their minds in strange ways, making them erratic in both thought and action.

"When we found you," Luther continues, "you were a captive of the mutants. We came across them while escorting a young man to a nearby town. Their camp was built across the road and completely blocked our path. We had no choice but to fight. After we dispatched them, I found you and Nick fighting. Seems you were so wound up by your capture that you were not thinking straight." Courier nods her head, that does sound like her. "You were attacking Nick with your nails, teeth, and feet, and he was ready to just kill you."

"We talked him down and managed to get you to that town I mentioned. You went your way and we went ours. While we were laid up in that town Nick and the rest of us had a falling out. He left in anger and I had to keep one of my people from killing everyone in the town from anger. Tyler has always been a loose cannon. I didn't see this, but you and Nick apparently met up again by chance a the local bar. You talked, had a few drinks, and both managed to calm the other down considerably. Nick came back to us and we continued on with the search for his Father."

"We didn't see you again for a long time. When we did, a lot of things had gone down. We found his dad, but he was killed by a military group known as the Enclave, a group I was once a part of. I was captured and interrogated by them and he somehow made it back into his vault. When we all were brought back together it was to kill off the last of the Enclave soldiers and finish his father's work on a project that would clean all the water in the D.C. basin. I'm sure you can imagine that with those memories of a place he had no desire to stick around."

"You showed back up looking for him, and you offered him a job. You were a courier. You delivered messages all across the wasteland. He took up with you to get out of the Capital. That was nearly five years ago. I haven't seen him or you since. I didn't recognize you in Feeside until you mentioned that you were a Courier."

For a ling time silence stretches between them. Courier is deep in thought. So much of what he said could easily be lies, but why would he lie to here? The parts that are true begin to filter out. There is a place known as the Capital Wasteland, she has heard of that before. There are some messed up Super mutants out there, and not just the Nightkin. She is a Courier, and it is completely possible that someone contracted her to cross the wastes to the Capital area. She has never heard of the Enclave, a machine that purifies all the water, or a war being fought by the Brotherhood of Steel. The war part really gets to her. From what she has heard, the Brotherhood isn't the type to just start a war without the chance of gaining some sort of technology.

Luther has started drinking again. When he first saw her in Freeside, he was totally bonkers. He was stark raving mad as far as she was able to tell. Strange that it takes a drink for him to calm down. Usually getting a fix works the other way around. There is no reason that she knows of for him to be lying to her, and his story seems far too complicated for it to be made up. "Okay," she starts slowly, "lets say I believe you. You said you met me, and that your friend, Nick, traveled with me. So what is my name?"

In truth, she isn't sure she wants to hear it. She has lived so long as the Courier now, she really can't imagine living any other way. Is she the same person she was before? Does she have a different personality? Will she be able to remember anything? Does she need some of that whiskey Luther is drinking?

Luther's brow lowers and he rubs his temple. "It has been a while. I only ever saw you once or twice, three times at the most. I think your name started with a J or something. Janice? Joy? Jane? Jesse? Something along those lines." Courier hangs on to each name he lists off. None of them sound familiar, none strike any cords in her mind. Hell, none of this is suddenly making sense like it does in the books! Isn't she supposed to hear some of her past and then the memories com rushing back? That is how it works right?

"Jane." She snaps her attention to him. He is nodding his head. "Your name was diffidently Jane. I remember now. Nick called you by it the last time I saw either of you."

Jane. She tests the word out. It sounds strange. Odd. Like it doesn't fit her perfectly. It is so simple. She always imagined her name to be something beautiful and elegant. Jane is so short. To the point. Huh, maybe it fits her better than she thought. She tends to not wait around, to jump right in. She can be hard headed and edgy. Not to mention all the sarcasm and improper jokes. Jane. Jane sounds like a good sturdy name. Yeah, she likes it. Jane. "Jane."

"Who the hell is Jane?" She starts as Raul walks in. "And who the hell is that Boss?" He jerks a thumb at Luther.

"Raul, this is Luther, a psycho I found in Feeside and who followed me home for some booze. Can I keep him? Please? I'll feed him and walk him and everything!" Raul gives her a look. "Oh come on! You never let me have any pets here. Aren't I supposed to be in charge?"

"Hey chica," Raul says with a shrug of his shoulders as he pulls a cig from his pocket, "You can keep all the crazies you want to. Long as they don't sleep in my room. Unless that is what you want. You know, whatever you say is law round here. You are the Boss." The ghoul blows the smoke from his cig into Luther's face.

Courier rolls her eyes, or, Jane does. Damn, it is going to take some getting used to. "He knows me." Raul gives her a blank stare. "He knows me from before I can remember. You know, the amnesia and loss of memory? The whole getting shot in the head and waking up in a shallow and frankly poorly dug grave?" Raul looks at Luther with a new expression.

"That true hermano?"

Luther lifts an eyebrow theatrically. He rattles something off in Spanish that Courier, damn, Jane can't understand. Raul looks taken aback and abruptly sits down in a chair. "What," Courier demands, "what did he say?"

As Raul speaks he keeps glancing between her and Luther. "He said that what you were saying is true and that I should learn to bath better. He claims that only the garbage smells this bad and that if I continue to speak down to him he will put me where I belong. In the garbage. Thing is that I totally believe he means every word of it. No trouble hermano, I swear it. If the Boss is good with you, than so am I. Didn't mean to come off as disrespectful in any way. I am just a tired old man is all."

Luther nods his head, seemingly satisfied with Raul's answer. "Back to the topic on hand." He turns his head towards Courier, Jane, and fixes her with a rather intimidating stare. "Is there anything else you want to know? Any questions you want to get off your chest?"

Jane things. "Tel me about this Nick character. If I trusted him enough to drag his ass across the wasteland, then he must be worth his salt."

A strange expression passes over Luther's face and Jane, ha got it that time, immediately notices it. Thus far Luther's feelings have been very well guarded behind an unreadable mask. Mentioning Nick seems to tug at him in some way. She can't tell if the look on the man's face is regret, or anger. "Nick," Luther starts slowly, "Nick was a good kid."

"We met in the bar of a place called Megaton. He was fresh out of the vault and had a strange look in his eyes. At the time I didn't know why I felt for him, later I realized he had a lot in common with me and my partner, Tyler. He was homeless, and searching. Searching for something that he knew probably no longer existed. Tyler and I helped him out on his first job and after he just stuck with us. We worked together to make enough caps to go after his missing Father, after all you don't just decided to go crawling around in the ruins of the capital."

"The kid went through a lot. He has been captured by slavers, made into a pit fighter, led a revolution, saved children, slaughtered slavers, been tortured numerous times, and had to witness his Father die to save him. By the time he left with you, he was a completely different person. He had transformed into the type of mercenary scum you avoid at all costs unless you have a job that no one else can do." Luther trails off and seems to be listening to something, even nodding his head once or twice. "Yeah, he was fucked up, and here I am the crazy one. Damn, I need another drink."

Luther leans forward to pick up the bottle again. Before he can even touch it Jane has swiped it out of his reach. "First," she insists, "tell me why you were so desperate for a fix. You don't strike me as an addict."

"I don't know boss," Raul sighs, "looks like an addict to me. Got the right look in his eyes. I say let him have his drink before he switches personalities and kills us both."

Jane does not respond to Raul, instead watching Luther carefully. "Your man is right," He sighs, "I may very well have a violent swing of mood and decide to kill you. Your best be is to just hand over that drink."

"So, what, you have split personalities and you drink to keep them in check?"

Luther actually looks surprised, "Hell, is it that easy to tell?"

* * *

Kc in hails the jet and lets the high rush through her. Damn it feels good. The way the world seems to slow down, the way everything is so much weaker! She is a goddess when she is riding the chems. Tyler disappeared a few hours ago in search of Luther. He gave her strict orders to remain in their little squatters hole and to leave his stash alone. She ignored his second order, naturally, and is now thinking of disobeying his first.

Honestly, why the hell does he think he has the right to order her around? It isn't as if he is from her clan, or even responsible for her in any way shape or form. Anything she does or doesn't do is her business, now his. Sure, she decided to follow them after Luther patched her up, but that was done out of guilt. She owes Luther, and she needs to stick around until she can pay off her debt.

Hey, maybe that is what she can do! Go off and help Tyler to find Luther! She looks around quickly and grabs all her scattered things. Briefly she considers leaving Tyler's stuff where it is so he can't claim she was attempting to steal from him, but she figures he will be more upset if she leaves it and it does actually get stolen. Laden down with all the supplies, she sets off through Freeside. Not surprisingly she fits in very well with the rest of the rabble around here. Junkies, psychos, mercs, looters, scavers, and all sorts of other lowlifes.

With her spiky hair, dirty skin, and ragged clothing, she looks like just another squatter. So long as nobody takes a closer look at her stuff and notices all the weapons that is. Just keep your head low, your eyes from lingering, and everything will be fine.

Some asshole, drunk on something, makes a grab for her, but she sidesteps him and keeps going. Seriously? She is only fourteen! No one is going to be touching her like that. Pervert! The man she avoided shouts some profanity at her, mostly calling her a whore, but she lets it pass and keeps moving. That is the key in places like this. Constant movement. Stop to breath for more than a few seconds and your ass is either dead or hauled off to some forsaken place. Despite all the drawbacks and bad people, she actually likes Freeside. Well, truthfully she likes the Kings.

Those guys. With their leather jackets and fancy hair. They really know the meaning of style and chivalry. Not one of them has come on to her after the first time she rejects them. Most assholes keeping going, unaware of how bad for their health it is to get her mad. Not the Kings. They understand that no means no. They are all so good! With their smiling faces, smooth voices, and ripped bodies. She curses under her breath as she realizes she is drooling. Nasty! Nasty, nasty men! That is what the Kings are! That is what all humans of the male persuasion are! Nasty! Every single one of them! But the Kings are just so classy with the leather...

Her thoughts trail off as a squatter up ahead catches her attention. He is waving frantically at her and indicating something down an alley. He shouts something at her, but she can't make it out. "What?" she shouts back at him. Again he shouts and again she can't hear him. The man waves her over and runs down the alley. Kc may be just a kid, but all her instincts are telling her that this is a trap. Instead of following the guy, she looks for another option. A half destroyed fire escape catches her eye and she moves over to it.

Jumping up and grabbing the lowest rung, she easily pulls herself up the twisted metal. Like some sort of animal she ascends the side of the building, leaping from spot to spot with no fear. Climbing has always been a skill of hers. Once up on the roof she walks over to the side and looks down into the alley below.

The squatter she spotted before is standing near the entrance, looking out with what she assumes is a confused expression. Hidden behind him are two other squatters armed with makeshift weapons. Even further down the alley is a collection of at least three dead people. So that is it huh? Lure people into the alley and jump them? Not a bad scam, for trapping idiots. Good thing she is smarter than that. "Hey," One of the hidden squatters shouts to their friend at the entrance, "where is she?"

The guy shrugs his shoulders and turns to them. "I dunno. She just vanished man. Maybe she went back the way she came." He takes one more look at where Kc was. "Damn shame, she looked to have a lot of stuff on her. Wait, someone else is coming!" Kc looks in the same direction as the mugger. Walking down the street is a man. As he approaches Kc manages to make out a set of iconic metal armor.

"Oh, you sumbags are in for it now." she mutters under her breath.

The man in the street spots the mugger, doing his waving trick again, and follows the guy down the alley without a word. Kc watches as they pass the two concealed muggers and walk to the pile of bodies. She hears the man from the street make a smart remark, "Friends of yours. Guess you want to join them in the beyond."

The other two muggers jump out and rush the man. Before they can even really get up any momentum the man whirls around and fires two rounds from a sawed of shotgun. Both men are shredded into meat chunks by the spread of the weapon. The last mugger attempts to jump the metal clad fighter, but the man just smashes the muggers face in with the empty shotgun. Kc cant help but let out a whoop of excitement as the fight finishes before it even began. She climbs down into the alley and runs up the man. "Tyler! That was fucking badass!"

The ghoul has light a cigarette and it gives his face an eerie shadow. "Thought you were supposed to be guarding my things." He notices that she has his stuff with her. "Scratch that, why are you trying to steal my shit?"

Kc rolls her eyes, "I wasn't. Got high, got bored, got smart and decided not to leave your stuff in that hole so it could be taken by some idiot who stumbles upon it. Found Luther yet?"

Tyler shakes his head. "No, but he can take care of himself. None of the people around here could have killed him, even when he is drunk. He must have decided to head out on his own for a bit. He will show back up whenever he decides to. In the meantime, I managed to find us some work. Should be relatively simple. Got head out and deliver some package to a man who will be waiting for us."

Kc scrunches up her face. "What if Luther comes looking for us?"

Tyler chuckles. "That man is a natural born tracker. If he comes looking for us, then he will find us.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello everyone. Hope you are all well and not insane. I might be. Just kidding! Or am I? My mental state aside, here is the next chapter, please review! Also, pm me if you have any OC's you would like me to put in or any NCPs + any information on them, thank you!**

Chapter 7: Descent

Traveler lurches to his feet as gunfire erupts throughout the camp! Rushing out of his tent he is treated to the sight of fiends dropping down from the camp's massive wall. He doesn't stop to wonder how the managed to scale such a barrier, he just reacts to the danger. Hsu confiscated his weapons, but that has never stopped him before. With no regard for his own safety he charges the nearest fiend.

The raider junkie doesn't see him coming until it is too late! Traveler tackles the woman to the ground and snaps her neck. He grabs her weapon. It is a laser rifle in surprisingly good condition. He takes the fusion cells from the woman's gun belt and turns to face the rest of the attackers!

Many of the fiends have already made it past the first line of tents. The NCR soldiers will have to deal with them. In the meantime Traveler can give those soldiers a chance by holding off some of the other fiends. He slides into cover behind some sandbags and opens up with the laser rifle. Beams of light spray in both directions. These bastards are far to well equipped to be regular raiders!

He takes down three and disintegrates at least two before they realize where he is and turn their attention to him. A fiend with a tommygun puts down covering fire as two others charge Traveler's position. Traveler blind fires and hears at least one raider cry out in pain. The other leaps the sandbags and lunges at him with a rusty shiv. Traveler kicks the weapon out of the man's hand and blasts a hole through his chest! He then rolls to the side and targets the tommygun welding fiend with a volley of shots. The fiend goes down, his hand still gripping the trigger, and in the process wounds two other nearby fiends.

A fiend jumps onto Traveler's back and forces him to the ground. The bastard slams his head into the concrete ground! Disoriented, Traveler heaves and only just manages to throw the fiend. He reaches for his knife, only to find it missing. Damn it Hsu! Frantically Traveler looks for his rifle and spots it a few feet away, between him and the fiend!

The fiend spots the weapon at the same moment Traveler does and leaps for it. Traveler lunges forward, but the fiend gets there first and shoots. A burning sensation flares through his body but Traveler ignores it. He grabs the barrel of the gun and yanks it to the side before the fined can get off another round. The two grapple for control of the weapon. Traveler gives a hard jerk and at the same time headbutts the fiend. The fiend releases the weapon and stumbles back. Traveler slams the stock of the rifle into the fucker's head, knocking him to the ground. Traveler fires the rifles last round into the fiend, finishing him off. He tosses aside the useless weapon and looks for a replacement.

The sound of a rifle cracks nearby and a fiend drops dead next to Traveler. Instinct makes him look at the killer. An NCR veteran ranger is standing there with a smoking anti-material rifle. The ranger runs up and tosses him a riot control shotgun. "Make every round count!" The ranger shouts, his voice sounding strange through his helmets filtration device. "The camp is pushing them back but there are more coming from across the way! We need to halt their advance so the infantry can retake the camp walls!"

Traveler nods in understanding and follows the ranger to the steel doors of the camp. The doors go up and Traveler pumps a round into the chest of a raider standing just outside. The ranger reverses the controls for the doors and they close behind him and Traveler as they step outside. Once out Traveler sees how the raiders scaled the walls, with ladders. "How did the patrols not see them coming?"

The ranger works the bolt action of his rifle. "They were killed from long range." Traveler gives the man a wary look. "Laser weapons. Someone is supplying these people with laser weapons." Traveler looks across at the ladders and nods. He had already come to that conclusion. How else would two bit raiders have such good weaponry? "Where they got their weapons doesn't matter right now," the ranger shouts as he heads off, "what matters is us holding off the reinforcements."

Traveler runs to catch up with him. "How exactly are two people going to hold off a horde of raider fiends?"

The ranger points up the road to a bride. "They have to cross here, best place to attack from. It is a funneling point. Others might take a different path, but the camp will be able to deal with those. We don't have to defeat the group headed our way. We just need to hold them long enough for McCarran to get its artillery up and working again."

The ranger takes up position on the left side of the bridge and Traveler on the right. Behind them the fighting at McCarran can still be heard. Ahead of them the lights from the torches of the approaching horde is easily seen. Traveler checks the ammunition of his riot shotgun. "How many rounds do you have?" He shouts to the ranger.

The NCR veteran turns to look at him slowly. He dramatically holds up both hands, wiggling all ten of his fingers. It takes Traveler a second to understand. "You only have ten rounds!" The ranger nods. "I only have twelve!"

A strange sound comes from the ranger. After a few seconds the sound amplifies and Traveler realizes it is laughter. "I know, this is going to be so much fun!" Traveler turns away from the ranger and looks up at the sky. Above them are several crows, circling in preparation for the feast to come. One of them comes down and lands next to Traveler.

The bird tells him that the fiends coming there way are about to arrive. It also tells him that their leaders are the ones wearing the funny hats with cow skulls on them. Traveler relays the information to the ranger, "The raiders coming towards us are being lead by the ones in the tribal headgear. If we take them down then the rest may scatter."

"I don't care to know where you suddenly got that information." The ranger is looking through the scope of his rifle. "Somehow, I think you are right."

Across the bridge, the horde has arrived. The raiders are running full sprint towards them. They are hooting and shouting all manner of war cries. Some are even shooting rounds into the air. A slow smile spreads on Traveler's face. "We have twenty-two bullets between us, but they sure as hell don't know that." A maniacal laugh starts to bubble inside of him. Soon both he and the ranger are laughing loudly.

* * *

 _Luther, Luther, Luther. You thought You could escape from me? Me! No my friend. I am always here. Always just a word away..._

Emptiness. A vast plane in every direction. No color. No changes. All flat. Nothing to distinguish the sky from the land. Light comes from all around. There are no shadows. Walk in any direction, turn to look back, and it is as if you haven't moved at all.

Darkness. A void. Nothing to see. Even the empty plane is preferable over this. You cannot see yourself. You cannot see at all. You cannot move. You cannot breath. Yet you live, suffocating for eternity. No land, no sky, nothing to hold you down. As if you are falling, but you cannot feel the fall. There is no gravity, nothing to hold you down. You can float off into the abyss, or you can fall.

If there is an afterlife, Luther prays it is nothing like this. He is aware of himself, but in two places. A vast featureless plane and an empty void. One part of him turns and speaks to the other, attempting to make contact. The one in the plane, it is calling out to the one in the void. In the darkness, the second stirs, wondering at the sound that pierces the bleakness around it. The plane is running now, desperately calling out to the void. The void is awake now, kicking and lashing out at the darkness that confines it, driven mad by its inability to reach the voice it hears.

The plane seems to be shrinking. Pulling further and further away. Despite being unable to see or feel, the void panics. It can sense that the plane is weakening. The void tries to scream, but it has no air in its lungs. The plane runs hard and fast, like an animal it chases after the void, but the void only seems to move further and further away the harder the plane tries. They both struggle, lashing out at the madness around them! No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

Running, running, running! Keep running! Find the void! Bring it back. Rescue yourself!

 _You are mine, Luther._

 **NO!**

* * *

 **Relatively** **short chapter here, I know, but sometimes you say all you want to in just a few words.**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Delivery

Tyler taps his foot impatiently against the ground. He is not known for being able to wait around all day. Between babysitting a junkie bitch and not knowing when the person they are supposed to give this damn package to is going to arrive, he is struggling to keep from getting a fucking serious headache. From where she is curled up on the ground nearby, Kc gives a low groan. No pity is felt for the girl. She chose to take all his chems, even after the explicitly told her not to, so she has to deal with the consequences. How she even managed to move around after popping that much jet and psycho without killing everyone or gouging her own eyes out is beyond him.

When she dropped in on him in that alley, she was already riding a high. As they started towards the drop point for this damn package, she just kept taking more and more stuff. Tyler warned her to take it easy, but she never listens to him. She never listens to anyone. Her addictions are honestly far worse than his own. He knows how to regulate his dosage to get the maximum effect and duration, she just hits up whatever and whenever.

The sun is starting to go down and Tyler is getting more and more anxious by the minute. If the receiver, or contact, whatever you call the person you are delivering a package to, does not show up soon then he is going to leave and take whatever is in the damn box. Perhaps therein lies the problem. The package looks to be nothing more than an old vault-tec lunchbox, the likes of which can be found literally everywhere. The people who hired him to deliver it, the Van Graff siblings, gave him strict orders not to open or tamper with the box in any way. Normally curiosity isn't one of his features, but he can't help but wonder what is small enough to fit into the lunchbox yet important enough to warrant offering five hundred caps for its delivery? Back east in DC, five hundred caps would have set him up for months.

A twig snaps nearby and Tyler's hand automatically goes to the sawed off at his hip. The weapon clears the holster and is aimed before the approaching party even realizes Tyler is standing there. "This is a foolish waste of my... Oh." The man standing there is dressed in simple clothes and appears to be unarmed save for a strange machete like weapon.

"You," Tyler rasps, doing his best to keep from sounding too threatening, no need to scare this guy if he is the receiver, "are you here to pick up a package?"

The man looks Tyler up and down, taking in the ghoulish nature of the person addressing him. "I was unaware that the Van Graffs associated themselves with vermin such as you. I am indeed here to pick up a package. I assume that it is the way it was given to you. You haven't soiled it with your filth?" The man sounds completely serious, as though he is unaware how fucking insulting what he just said is.

Tyler growls slightly, but manages to keep from going off. Remember, he reminds himself, five hundred fucking caps are riding on this. He reaches into his pack and removes the lunchbox. "Yeah, same as it was when I got it." An idea occurs to him. "Must be very valuable right?" The man nods and reaches for the box. "Not so fast," Tyler steps back as he speaks, "where is my deliverer's payment?"

"Your what?"

Tyler rolls his eyes. "I am supposed to receive a payment from you. For delivering the package safely? Ringing any bells?"

The man crosses his arms and sneers. "There is to be no payment. You will be paid by the Van Graffs, not me!"

Kneeling down Tyler shoves the box back into his pack. "Right then, no delivery. Guess this isn't as important as I thought it would be. Guess I'll just go back to Gloria Van Graff and tell her that you and whoever you represent have no interest in future deals." As he turns and starts to walk away, he hears the man take in a sharp breath.

"Wait!" Tyler stops and looks over his shoulder. The man is fuming, but also digging around in his pockets. "Here is one hundred and fifty caps. It is all I can afford to give you, take it or leave it!"

Tyler lets out a reserved sigh. "All right," He takes the caps, "it is less than my usual fee, but I can forgive that seeing as you were not informed about the details. Here is the box." The man all but snatches it from Tyler's hands and without another word turns and leaves. "Asshole." Tyler growls at his back. He rattles the bag of caps in his hands and looks down as Kc groans again. "Hey, girly, how wasted do you think we can get off of six hundred and fifty caps?" She groans again and rolls onto her stomach. "Yeah, this should be good."

Thinking about how many chems the money will bring him, Tyler pulls Kc to her feet and helps her back towards Vegas. His mood is considerably higher than it was before, and he hasn't even taken anything yet.

He reaches one of the gates into Feeside just as a huge mushroom cloud goes up into the air near camp McCarran. "What the hell?" He listens closely and can make out the sound of gunfire. "Sounds like the NCR is having some trouble." It isn't any of his business, but who the hell has the ability to challenge a fully staffed NCR stronghold? With Kc still leaning against him he sets off towards the camp.

* * *

Traveler grapples with the raider, struggling to keep a knife from slamming down into his eye socket. He heaves upwards, throwing the fiend over his head and at the same time putting himself on top. Their positions now reversed, Traveler starts raining punches into the fiend's face before he can attack with his knife. The guy passes out and Traveler tosses his limp body over the side of the overpass.

Since the fighting started here, he and the ranger have been holding their own. Moments ago the ranger got smart and used his last round to ignite the nuclear engine of a nearby car, taking out a large chunk of the overpass and the fiend forces. What remains of the horde is steadily making its way over the gaping hole in the bridge while Traveler and the ranger switch to melee weapons. Traveler had been reaching for his katana when a fiend hurled himself over the gape at him. The ensuing fight left Traveler bruised, but still with both eyes and a dead fiend tossed over the side of the overpass.

He now draws his katana and banishes it over his head. The charging fiends hesitate for a moment as the behold one of the two ragging men who have decimated their numbers all while laughing holding a long wicked sword over his head and with blood lust in his eyes. Traveler gives them no time to think. Turing the tables, he charges them with a savage battle cry. With a spin he cleanly removes the head of a fiend. The corpse falls to its knees, blood spurting from the stump on its shoulders where the head once was. The other fiends panic and begin scrambling backwards over themselves.

Traveler presses his assault. Every fiend that comes into range meets a quick death. His blade shears through flesh and armor with equal ease and vigor. At some point, Traveler begins to laugh again. Blood spurts from the fiends, covering him, spraying into his open mouth. The iron taste of the red liquid only fuels his battle rage. The Fiends begin piling up as they struggle to cross the gap in the overpass before the mad man can reach them. They start pushing those closest to the gap down into the hole in desperation to escape. Realizing that they will not be able to escape in time, the remaining fiends make a desperate last push to get past Traveler.

Traveler braces himself as six fiends rush him all at once. The ranger suddenly charges past him with two combat knives in his hands. The ranger skiers one fined, lifting the raider off the ground, before splitting open his belly and spilling his guts onto the overpass. Three fiends continue past the ranger towards Traveler while two stay back.

Traveler deflects an attack from the first fiend to reach him and quickly slashes at the woman's leg, crippling her. As that fiend falls to the ground in pain, the two others attack at the same time. Traveler catches the attack of one with his sword, and the other's bounces off the armor on his shoulder. He parries another attack and splits the throat of a fiend. Quickly he leaps at the one still standing. The bastard panics and takes off running. Traveler snarls and sprints after him.

The fiend is wearing lighter gear and is fueled by fear, thus he starts to pull away from Traveler. Just when Traveler is sure he is gong to loose the fiend, a gunshot goes off. Traveler instinctively ducks down and covers his head, but nothing happens to him. He looks up to see the fiend's body laid out in the street with a hole through his chest. "What the hell?" Traveler mutters. "Who?"

"Now that is what I call a fucking damn good shot!" Traveler turns to the source of the scratchy voice. Standing there is a ghoul with an unconscious teenage girl draped over his shoulders and a smoking sawed off shotgun in his hands. The ghoul is dressed in heavy metal armor, and caries not only the sawed off but also a lone combat shotgun as well. Traveler stands slowly, unsure of the ghouls intentions. Something about him seems familiar. "There is nothing like wasting a stupid raider, right girly? Ah fuck, still out. Fucking steal my chems and then have me carry you everywhere, typical."

"Tyler?"

The ghoul's gaze locks onto Traveler and his eyes narrow. The ghoul lets the girl fall unceremoniously to the ground as he approaches. Traveler flicks his katan up to the ghoul's throat, halting his approach. The ghoul looks down at the blade and speaks in a low growl. "Now that is a very foolish thing to do. You hold a weapon to me, one of two things happen. Either I kill you for being so stupid, or you fall to your knees and beg for me not to."

Traveler steps forward, keeping the blade at the ghouls throat. "You threaten me, and I won't even let you beg. The hell I will send you to will make you long for days spent slugging through the capital ruins. When I am done, you won't be able to tell your outsides from your insides." The two hold the others gaze. Second's tick by, and then Tyler cracks a smile.

"Well screw me up the ass. You've finally learned how to be scary as shit. Good to see you Nick."

Nick smiles and sheathes his blade. "What, you get so tired and bored that you decided to follow me west in the hopes that I would get you into some trouble?"

Tyler shakes the hand Nick offers him. "Hell no, I wan't nothing to do with the sort of trouble you get into. Sides, I have plenty of my own troubles to deal with, the least of which being that junkie bitch over there."

Nick regards the passed out teenager. "What, did you miss having a starry eyed kid following you around?" The girl gives a groan and manages to sit up and look around. Nick watches her as she takes in the dead fiend and the other carnage all around. She mutters something about jet before slumping against a building. "Or is she like your long lost daughter or something?"

"Hold it!" Nick and Tyler turn to see the ranger approaching them with his rifle ready. "Who are you?" He indicates Tyler.

Tyler growls and moves to attack the ranger. Nick stops him, "His gun is empty. He and I just defended this point from a horde of fiends. You can go count the bodies if you want. I think I have out paced you by now old man." Nick turns to the ranger. "I don't think I caught your name."

The ranger lowers his rifle and approaches them, keeping his head turned towards Tyler. "I didn't give it to you. Who is your fiend here?"

"This is Tyler, mercenary and mass murderer. He enjoys maiming, drugs, and making other peoples lives hell."

"Right." The ranger nods his head to Tyler before turning fully to Nick. "I thank you for your help back there. I have never met anyone who is as good in a fight as you are. Those bastards never stood a chance. I don't know how you are still standing. where are you wounded?." Nick is startled and looks down at himself. There is blood covering ever surface of his chest. He pats himself down, finding a few cuts as well as several burns and maybe a few broken fingers.

"Most of this isn't my blood."

The ranger seems taken aback, but is hard to tell with that helmet on. "Right, all the same I would like to offer McCarran's medical facilities to you, but they are likely filled with wounded from the fight. Speaking of which, we need to find the fiends source of energy weapons. Like I said before, no way they came by such high quality goods just by chance. If they have a supplier, we need to find them and take them out, if not, we burn them all alive and hope that no one else finds out where they were getting those weapons and does something stupid."

Tyler clears his throat. "Actually, I may be able to help you with that little detail."

* * *

Tyler has to admit, scamming Gloria Van Graff is probably one of his best ideas ever. After meeting up with Nick, and having a short reunion, never enough time to dwell on such things, their little passe set off for the Silver Rush, the Van Graffs home and store. Tyler went in first. He told Gloria that the job was done and collected the caps from her. She congratulated him and even offered him more work with higher pays. It was tempting, but he already had another mission. On his signal both Nick and that ranger he was with charged into the store and all hell broke loose.

The Van Graffs are no pushovers. Their security force was well trained and very well equipped. All of them carrying the very best in weapons and outfitted in the best combat armor. Despite that, the three of them made short work of the bastards. Tyler actually managed to grab a massive plasma based weapon and nearly gooifiyed both Gloria and her brother Jean-Baptiste.

Luckily that didn't happen and the ranger got to preform his interrogation. Tyler hadn't thought much of the man at first, what with him having threatened him with an empty weapon, but watching the man pry information out of two people made of iron, well, that was impressive. Tyler had always thought that the NCR was too soft and had too many restrictions. Apparently, those laws and restrictions don't apply to their ranger veterans.

The ranger actually strapped the siblings to metal chairs and then proceeded to electrocute them with a power line he ripped from the wall. Then he took out a knife and buried it into Jean-Baptiste's knee, twisting it to make sure that the leg would be useless from then on out. He did all of this before even asking them one question. He claimed he was just making sure that the duo knew he was serious. Needless to say, both of the Van Graffs were ready to talk. They admitted to supplying the fiends with weapons and ammunition. They also admitted to attempting to establish trade relations with the Legion. Tyler was pissed to learn that his delivery was actually part of those plans.

Everything was going smoothly, until Jean-Baptiste revealed the name of the fiend to whom the weapons were being sold. "Damn it all man!" Jean shouts as the ranger again twists the knife in a circle. "I've told you all I know. Motor-Runner stopped buying from us when he had his whole army outfitted. I knew he was planning something but I didn't know what. We had no part in the attack on the fort!"

Tyler is aware of Nick moving forward, and of the sudden anger spewing from the man. He watches as Nick pushes aside the ranger and grabs Jean. "What did you say?" The fury in the man's voice is at a level Tyler has never heard from him before. Tyler and Nick have a long history together, and the fact that Nick's anger is putting him on edge is a bad thing. A very bad thing.

"We didn't have anything to do with the attack..."

Nick slams a fist into Jean's head. "Not that! The fiends leader! What is his name!" Nick is roaring like an animal.

"Motor-Runner!" Jean shouts in fear, "His name is Motor-Runner. He is the leader of all the fiend tribes in the New Vegas area!" Nick releases him and steps away, an unreadable expression on his face. Nick mouths the name of the fiend leader twice. His expression darkens to the point where Tyler is sure that Jean will drop dead from the intensity behind it.

"Where?"

"In the ruins around vault 3! He has an entire army stored away in there!"

Nick turns and starts to walk away. "We are done here." His tone leaves no question that it is an order. Tyler is slightly surprised when the ranger nods. The ranger draws a magnum revover and puts two round into each of the Van Graffs heads. Tyler stares at him until he speaks.

"Loose ends." The ranger moves past him to follow Nick, and soon so does Tyler. They find him standing outside staring up at the night sky.

"Motor-Runner." Nick's voice is a low whisper. "I want his head." He turns to them and Tyler sees a familiar fire in his eyes. "I want his hear roasted on a spit and his body put on display as a message to all other fiends."

Tyler asks what both he and the ranger are thinking. "What did Motor-Runner do?"

Nick lowers his head and growls. "He killed my dog."


	9. Chapter 9

chapter 9: Revenge

Giles has been called the craziest member of the NCR veteran rangers. He has volunteered for suicide missions, patrols through Legion territory, defense of hopeless locations, and has even spat in the face of a deathclaw, but this Nick guy is a whole level above him on the crazy meter.

That is what runs through the NCR veteran's head as Nick leads him, a ghoul named Tyler, and a junkie teen, right into the heart of Fiend controlled territory. Sneaking through Legion lands was one thing, no fear aside from a slow and painful death on a crucifix, but with raiders you never know what sort of twisted torture the bastards will cook up just for you. That said, Giles is glad he is on Nick's side and not the raiders. Within a few hours of declaring that he wants Motor Runner dead, Nick has already taken care of the other Fiend leaders. Cook Cook, Driver Nephi, and Violet have all been decapitated and have their heads swinging from their killers belt.

As if that isn't enough, Nick has even take the brains from all of Violet's war dogs and stuffed them into a bag. Years of working for the NCR means that Giles has been privy to some dark information and events, but this is the first time a job he has volunteered for has disgusted him within the first hour. How Nick doesn't seem to notice all the blood soaking into his pants is beyond Giles.

A gunshot echos around them and Giles looks up to see that Nick has yet again wasted another Fiend with barely any effort or warning. The corpse is just hitting the ground as Giles looks up. The head of the body is gone along with a large section of the chest. Maybe giving Nick back his original weapons was not such a good idea after all. He had hoped that it would build some goodwill between himself and the others, so fat it seems to have just made Nick all the more blood thirsty. In that regard, they have something in common.

There is nothing Giles enjoys more than a good fight. The more blood, the more damage, the better it is. Maybe there is something wrong with him, but he can't really get into a fight until he is hurt in some way. He needs to be knocked around a bit before he gets going. He needs his blood to be flowing. He needs carnage to have ensued. That or he takes a hit of psycho when no one is looking and then is is just straight up peachy.

Closer and closer to vault 3 they start encountering fewer and fewer Fiends. Strange, they must have heard of the death squad coming towards them and are staying low. That or...

"So," Giles states through his helmet, knowing it makes him sound awesome, "anyone else notice that the Fiends have fallen back?" The ghoul looks over at him and nods. "I think it is safest to assume that Motor Runner," Nick growls at the sound of the name, "is aware that we are coming and has pulled his forces back to the vault. Getting in there will be even harder than before."

"Vaults sometimes have more than one way in." Giles listens closely as the ghoul talks, anyone who has survived since before the war deserves some attention and respect. "A wall has fallen in, ventalation shafts, back doors, caves, you name it and vault tech probably added it to their design somewhere along the lines."

"What?" The junkie girl seems to be aware enough to listen to their conversations, Giles had assumed she was just following out of habit and hand no idea what was going on. "I thought vaults were supposed to keep people free from damage from radiation and shit." Graceful, she is a graceful little ray of sunshine.

Tyler shakes his head as a dark expression comes over his face. "The vaults were never meant to save anyone." His words are directed at Nick's back. Giles notices and immediately wants to know what their mad leaders history with the underground bunkers is. "They existed to test things. Diseases, social habits, weapons, all sorts of twisted experiments took place in the vaults. Only the lucky ones actually survived." Again his words are pointed at Nick, and Nick just ignores his words. Tyler sighs and shakes his head. Interesting, very interesting.

"I wonder if they will have something to drink." Giles thinks out loud. "I could really go for something right now. Maybe a stiff something alcoholic. Like beer, yeah, beer is good. Not that moonshine you get further east. Nasty shit, tastes like battery acid. Not sure how I know what battery acid tastes like, but that is exactly what the moonshine tastes like. Battery acid aside, where are you from. How do you know each other. Is this junkie going to try and lift my guns if I don't tie them to myself?"

"Yes." Tyler responds with a slight smile.

"Hey," the girl protests, "I am not a thief." Tyler fixes her with a look. "Not all the time..."

Giles smiles under his helmet. "Got it, going to need some rope, a stick of gum, and a lot of leather. This whole tying down process is really way more complicated than you would normally think. You have to consider what you are tying, where you are tying, not to mention how you are tying. A lot of thought goes into it."

Nick speaks without stopping or turning around. "Ranger, I don't care about anything you have to say about tying down your equipment. If you so happen to have a alternate way into vault 3, then you may speak. Otherwise keep your mouth shut." Giles opens his mouth, thinks for a second, and then closes it again. "I thought not. The only way into this vault is through the front door. I can get us in, and then we are going to kill every bastard in that hole."

* * *

Motor Runner looks at the pathetic creature on its knees before him. The woman is babbling about some form of demon in human form that is tearing its way through their lands. This is not the first report he has received of this demon. When his forces were halted at the overpass, the few who survived to crawl back to him all claimed that they were held by two men, one of which was a monster drunk on blood. He dismissed those stories as incompetence and had the few survivors killed for being cowards and running.

Now, only a few hours from the failed attack on the infidels stronghold, there come more and more stories about the demon. Some claim that the demon is alone and killing everything that moves. Others that it is accompanied by the second warrior from the overpass. Still others say that their are five warriors, but that the demon is responsible for most of the death. Again Motor Runner dismissed the claims of a demon out to kill all, until word arrived that Cook Cook, one of his most trusted and feared warriors, had been killed and his head removed. Witnesses say that the demon tore Cook Cook's head off his shoulders with its bare hands and now wears it as an ornament on its belt.

These reports got Motor Runner's attention. He sent his disciples out to defend his other subordinates. To defend Violet and Nephi. Instead of hearing that the demon retreated at the sight of more battle, scouts returned with word that the demon cut through them as easily as before and that Violet met the same end as Cook Cook.

Now worried that there was indeed some form of warrior out to kill all of his disciples, Motor Runner sent a large force to defend Driver Nephi at his stronghold in the ruins. The battle that ensued there was close enough for those still within the sanctuary of 3 to feel the shaking of the earth. His warriors panicked, claiming that the shaking was from the demon's footsteps as it drew closer and closer. Motor Runner rebuked them and shot three to make a point. When the shaking stopped he proclaimed that Nephi must have been victorious.

Yet again he was disappointed. The scout sitting at his feet now having brought word that Nephi's head has been added to the demon's collection. Not only that, but the demon is on its way here. Motor Runner ordered all of his disciples back into the sanctuary to defend it. He does not buy the story about a demon, but there is a group of people out there hunting down his followers. With all three of his subordinates dead, he is the only leadership left for his followers. That means that whoever these killers are, they will be coming for him next.

"Motor Runner!" Another scout runs into his throne room and falls to his knees. Bonegnash and Gnashbone growl at the new arrival. Motor Runner reaches down and calms his two war hounds. "The demon... it... It is here!" Motor Runner stands and releases his hounds. With a single command from him the two massive dogs leap upon the two scouts in his throne room. Let this, 'demon', come. It will meet its end here.

* * *

Giles ducks under the swing of a bat and tackles his attacker to the floor. He wrestles the bat from the Fiend's grip and uses it to bash the bastards ugly face in. He has to admit, this is the most fun he has had in years! "This is the most fun I have had in years!" Nearby Kc, the junkie girl, slips up behind a Fiend who was preoccupied with getting ready to attack Giles and cuts his throat. That is the only downside to this fight. Somehow their group got separated and he ended up alone with the little thief junkie.

Despite her annoyingly dark mood and lack of self preservation senses, Giles refuses to let her ruin his fun. "Keep up junkie!" he shouts over his shoulder as more Fiends charge into the room, "I have almost twelve kills already!" He leaps into the crowd of Fiends and soaks up some damage. A bullet tears into his shoulder, a knife narrowly misses his face, and a fist connects with his stomach. A maniac laugh escapes him and he straightens up. All the Fiends stand around him, unsure of what is going on. "My turn!" he shouts joyously.

Within a whirl of seconds the Fiends are left on the ground in varying levels of togetherness. Kc saddles up to him and looks over the carnage. "And I thought that Tyler knew how to make a mess." She falls quite as an explosion rocks the vault. "Think that was our side or theirs?"

Giles smiles wider beneath his helmet, "Does it matter? Explosions!"

Kc looks at him out of the side of her eye, "Why do I feel like you are enjoying this?" Giles starts to answer, but spots a group of Fiends and is off again before he does. Kc stands back and watches as he slices, guns, and somehow bombs, his way through the ranks of Fiends. She moves to join him, but is grabbed from behind! She lets out a scream as a knife is jammed into her side! She struggles to break free of her attacker's grip, but they hold on, driving the knife further and further into her.

She jerks her head back, smashing something, and causing her attacker to finally release her. She falls to the floor and attempts to crawl away. Her leg is grabbed and she is pulled backwards. She turns over and looks up at the Fiend standing over her. His face is covered in blood from his broken nose and his skull helmet only makes him all the more frightening. She screams again and throws up her hands as the Fiend brandishes his knife. A gun cracks and the Fiend is thrown off of her. She scrambles to her feet, clutching her side as blood wells between her fingers.

Giles leaps onto the Fiend and begins to beat in the dying man's face. He starts speaking, punctuating each word with a fist to the face, "Do, not, fuck, with, my, people, you, fucking, piss filled, son, of, a, fucking, whore's, slut, mother!" His last punch breaks the Fiend's skull and his hand sinks into the mesh of brains beneath. "Ew!" He stands, flicking bits of brain off his fist. "Damn, I knew they were brainless!"

He turns to Kc and grabs the hand clutching her side. "No," she shouts, pushing him away, "don't touch me!"

Giles grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her violently. "Listen junkie! If you like it or not you and I are on the same side here! Now stop being such a stuck up little bitch and let me fix your fucking side before you bleed out all over the floor!" Kc stares at him in shock. Luther and Tyler were rude and often times mean to her, but the never told her off like that. Without realizing that she is doing so she removes her hand and lets the Ranger she barely knows examine her side.

He looks over the wound. It is short, jagged, and deep. He is no medic, but even he can tell that it is very bad. Taking his medical box from his gear he pulls out a stimpack and jabs it into her without warning. She cringes, but does not complain. A slight foam forms around the wound, stopping the bleeding. Hopefully the stimulant cells will close off enough of the wound to keep her alive until they can get her to a real doctor.

The vault shakes as another explosion goes off deeper in. He is unsure if Tyler and Nick are still together, but he hopes they are still alive. "Don't worry about your friends," He says aloud, more for himself than Kc, "they will make it out. I know Nick won't stop until he does what he came here for. Haven't know either of them that long, but I know that Tyler isn't the type to abandon his..."

He trails off as Tyler comes running towards them. "Don't stand there!" The ghoul shouts at them in a panic. "Run like hell!" Giles does not think, he just acts. He scoops Kc up in his arms and takes off after Tyler. The girl lets out a shout of surprise, and at first attempts to wriggle out of his arms, until he maybe on purpose but accidentally hits her head against a door frame.

* * *

Motor Runner revs the engine of his chainsaw as gunfire starts up outside his throne room. He is sweating, and not because of the fires raging throughout the vault. He hadn't believed the reports of a demon coming for him until now. What else could it be? No man, no single man would be able to make it this far on their own. No mortal creature would be capable of cutting their way through all of his disciples! The thing that is after him, the thing that has slaughtered his people, is indeed a demon. A beast conjured up from the deepest blackness!

The gunfire stops outside and he readies himself. On either side of him Bonegnash and Gnashbone growl low and menacing, ready for blood. This demon may be here for his soul, but Motor Runner is not a coward. He will not beg for his life. He will not run. He will stand here and fight the beast that comes for him. He will make this demon know that it has been a battle. Motor Runner will die with his weapon in his hand. A final act of glory!

He makes to inhale a vial of jet, but stops as the door to his throne room opens slowly. His eyes go wide as he beholds the demon. It is dressed in a ragged and torn overcoat, similar to those worn by the infidels best soldiers. His entire body is covered in bloodstains, both old and new. His face is devoid of emotion, his mouth set in a grim line. Eyes as cold and blue as ice bore into him, stripping bare his soul and judging him. Motor Runner takes a step back as all of his former bravado melts away in the face of this demon. He shouts a command and his hounds leap.

The demons sword moves so fast that Motor Runner barely sees it. It is no more than a flash of reddened silver as the heads of both his trusty hounds drop from their lifeless bodies. The demon advances into the room. Motor Runner snarls, charging himself up for a fight. He leaps forward, chainsaw extended. The demon sidesteps and whips the swords up, cleanly cutting off both of Motor Runner's hands. He sinks to the ground as blood spurts from the stumps of his arms. Now he cannot die with a weapon in hand. The demon has denied him a glorious death!

The demon flicks Motor Runners helmet off and tilts his head up. As he looks into the demon's eyes, a feeling of recognition hits him. He has seen this demon before. Only last time, their positions were reversed. This demon was his prisoner before he came to the Vegas area and built his empire. He killed the demon's companion, a dog. The demon leans down close to Motor Runner and whispers in his ear. The leader of the Fiend's last expression is one of total panic.

* * *

Giles is still carrying Kc when Tyler finally stops running. "What," he gasps between sucking in lungfuls of air, "is going on? What are we running from?"

Tyler shakes his head as he pants heavily. "You couldn't feel it? The earth pressing in on us from all sides? The walls getting closer and closer? The way the air seemed to be sucked right out of the room?"

Giles shakes his head, "No, I didn't feel any of..." He trails off as he realizes what Tyler is saying. "You are claustrophobic?"

The ghoul gives him a confused look. "What does that mean?"

"Claustrophobic. A fear of small closed spaces. I would think a ghoul would know enough to know what it means."

Tyler shakes his head. "I've only been a ghoul for a few years. Got it from a radiation storm back on the east coast."

Giles is about to let loose a snap about how he has been respectful only because he thought that Tyler was ancient, when he sees something that makes even him shut up. "What?" Tyler asks when he simply stops speaking. Giles nods back towards the direction they came. Tyler turns and also grows quite at the sight.

The entrance to the vault is aflame. The tougns of fire lick up out of the ruins surrounding the vault door and quickly start to spread to other nearby ruins. That isn't what they are watching. Emerging from the flames is Nick. He is covered head to toe in blood and there is smoke rolling off him. In his hand is the severed head of Motor Runner. The expression on the face of the dead Fiend can only be described as horrified.

Nick does not say a word to them. He walks right by them as though they are not there. Giles, Tyler, and Kc all exchange quick glances before following. Nick leads them out of Fiend Territory and back to McCarran. The NCR soldiers that they pass all stare in shocked silence at the procession of bloodied and gore covered people. Nick stops at McCarran's entrance. He walks up to several crumbled section of the wall and one by one mounts the heads of the Fiends he has collected.

Once done he sits down and waits. It does not take long for Colonel Hsu to arrive along with Major Dhatri. "I don't know what in the hell you are trying to pull Traveler," Hsu shouts at Nick, "but If I find out you had anything to do with..." The Colonel trails off as he notices the mounted heads. "What is the meaning of this?"

Nick motions at the head. "I saved you, again. That ranger and I," he points out Giles, "held off the horde that was on its way to decimate your camp when the attack started. Then we took care of the people supplying the Fiends with their weapons. After that, we decided it would be wrong to leave the job half done, so we took care of all the Fiends." He stands and lists out the Fiend leadership, pointing to each head as he does, "Violet, Driver Nephi, Cook Cook, and Motor Runner."

Hsu appears shocked beyond words and it is Major Dhatri who steps forward. Very carefully the Major examines each head. "He isn't fooling around. I can confirm the identities of each of these."

"In short, Colonel," Nick says as he stands and walks up to Hsu, "You owe me two thousand caps."

Giles can't help himself. "I'll be damned."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The House

Jane. Jane? Jane! Courier Six keeps testing out the name. It still sounds a little strange, but she is starting to accept it as hers. Strange how a person can suddenly become possessive of a word. Maybe it is less of a word and more of a title. That is likely why it feels strange, because it is the title of a woman who she does not remember and who may have been completely different from her.

Passed out in a nearby chair, the old man who revealed her name mummers and jerks about in his sleep. Half way through their talk he was taken by a seizure. His limbs started convulsing and his eyes rolled up into his head. The attack came out of nowhere and caught both Six and Raul off guard. Luther fell to the floor and was shaking violently before either of them acted. At first they tried to restrain him, but realized that they would likely only hurt him by doing so. Instead they removed all the furniture from around him and let the attack play out.

Foam started forming around Luther's mouth, sweat was soaking his clothes, and an indescribable sound was coming from him before he finally stopped shaking enough for either of them to lift him into a chair. Six told Raul to get over to Freeside and get Arcade, the best and frankly only doctor that Jane knows enough to trust with her life or the lives of others. As the ghoul departed, Luther sat bolt upright and screamed no. He drew the word out until he had no more breath before collapsing back into the chair and lying silent.

Since the attack Jane has been staying close. Every few minutes she checks his breathing and wipes the sweat from his face with a cool compress. He has been muttering things. Some words she can make out, like plane and void, others are just sounds. His eyes are closed, but she can see his pupils darting about beneath his eyelids. What is going on inside his head. What manner of nightmare is he experiencing? Six, Jane, wants to help. This man she barely knows has told her more about her past than she has ever learned on her own. Not even her trip into the Divide brought her answers about her full past.

That place, that sinkhole filled with lost souls, her legacy in the world. To see how harshly her actions could affect both people and the land was an eye opener. Ulysses was an eye opener. The whole time she hunted him through the Divide he taunted her. She wanted him dead, almost as much as she had wanted Benny, the guy who shot her in the head, dead. Only when she finally found him, when she finally spoke with him face to face? She could not do it. She could not pull the trigger on a person who was directly created by her actions. In a way, Ulysses was another part of her. She pitied him, more so than he was willing to accept. In the end they stood together, and both left the Divide changed.

Despite all that, she only learned a small amount about who she was. Ulysses had no answers about where she had been after her creation of the Divide, and she had no more desire to question him. The Divide may be her fault, but Vegas is her home.

Luther makes more noise and she crosses to his side. Gently she places a fresh compress on his head, removing the old one and dropping it into a bowl of cold water. His hand snaps up and latches onto her arm. The strength of his grip causes her to cry out. He jerks her close and stare into her with an intensity that makes her shiver. "You cannot stop him!" His words are a fevered whisper. "He will kill you all!"

Six tries to break away from him, but cannot. "Do you hear me?" He stands, forcing her to her knees. "He will burn all that is burnable! He will crush all that is not already crushed!" Six's hand scrabbles at her satchel. "He is the herald of another end!" She jabs a syringe of med-x into his leg and jerks her arm away. She crawls away from him until her back his the wall, chest heaving as she watches him in fear. Luther looks down at the syringe sticking out of his leg and then up at her. "I only wanted to warn you..."

Luther collapses to the floor. Jane exhales, her breathing labored. She has faced many foes, but none of them have had such a burning intensity in their gaze. This man, whoever he is, is on the verge of being broken.

Just as she stands up Raul and Arcade rush into the room. Arcade takes one look at her disheveled form and the unconscious man on the floor and makes a snap decision. "You are fine, what did you do to him?"

Jane looks at him in disbelief. "What did I do? He attacked me?"

Arcade lifts Luther back into the chair where he was before and begins to examine him. "Raul told me what happened. You should know better than to approach a seizure victim before they are properly examined." He takes some instruments out of his medical bag and starts preforming all sorts of tests. "You never know how they are going to act. Often they are far from in control of their actions."

With a huff Jane sits down on a couch and crosses her arms. "Well forgive me for not being a professional in the medical field of, what do you call it? Sitting around and staring into microscopes so that your back becomes hunched and your trigger finger becomes useless?" Arcade ignores the jab and continues to look over Luther.

Raul sits down next to Jane and pulls a pack of smokes out of his pocket. He takes two out and lights them both. One he places in his own mouth and the other he offers to Jane. She takes it and takes long drag. Smoking used to be a habit of hers. That is one thing that she knows about her past, she smoked. Hard to deny an addiction. Took her a few days to figure out why she had a craving for smoke. Technically she quite a few months ago, but technically she and Raul still need a way to relax, as long as Lily doesn't find out anyway. "So whats wrong with him?"

Arcade removes the stethoscope from his ears and stands with a puzzled expression. "Nothing psychical that I can find, but there may be something inside that I can't see without all of my equipment. If it isn't physical than it could be trauma from a past experience, like PTSD."

"Wait," Raul interrupts, "you are telling me that his problem could just be in his head? Like he imagined it or something?"

Arcade shakes his head. "Not really, but close. If it is mental then there is likely some past event that triggers the attacks. When he thinks of it, then bam, seizure. It can be anything, and not all people who suffer from such conditions have the same response. Some just shut down, some start to relive the moment as if it is happening right then, others have loose control of their body and retreat into their minds. These things are hard to deal with, but we get a lot of veterans and whatnot down at the fort." He packs up his tools and looks over at them. "What were you talking about before the attack?"

"We were discussing me?" Jane answers without being totally sure.

Arcade sighs and rubs his head, "Can you be any more unspecific?"

Jane smiles sweetly, "Sure, we were talking to each other about someone in this room? How was that?"

Raul snorts a laugh which earns him an angry look from Arcade. "What, you did ask her to be unspecific. What did you think would happen?"

Arcade crosses his arms and gives Jane a pointed look. "I expected, though I don't know why, that our intrepid leader would actually act like an adult for once instead of continuing to behave like she is a Juvenal child."

With another sweet smile Jane stands and hugs Arcade, which catches him off guard. "But I love you so much Arcade! When will you ever return your affection for me?" The doctor stiffly attempts to disentangle himself from her, but she holds on. "Oh, I see, you never loved me! Very well," She places a hand on her head dramatically, "I will look to another!"

Arcade finally manages to break away from her. "I would think you would be a little more worried about the man who likely could be insane sitting in your living room!" He starts to leave when something occurs to him, "Who is that guy anyway?"

Jane shrugs her shoulders, "I don't know. He says he knew me from before the bullet to the head incident. Some of the things he said made sense, actually all of it did. It also would explain why I have suddenly developed the desire to find out if there is someone following me all the time."

This is obviously news to Arcade. "You think you have a stalker?"

Clearly Raul is upset as well. "That is no good Boss. Anyone who isn't willing to just say how they feel about you, or if they are obsessed, is dangerous." Jane looks between the two men and can't help but feel a small surge of appreciation for them. At least they care, even if do hide it well.

"Look guys, that is not what I meant." She crosses to a window and looks down at Vegas. "I just have had this feeling that there is someone looking for me. I can't explain it, but I think they know who I am and can answer all my questions." She looks back at them. Raul is hiding his feelings behind his cig, but Arcades feelings are written all over his face. He thinks she is bullshitting him. "Look, I know it sounds weird, but out of the four of us here I don't think I am the craziest." Right on que Luther moans softly.

Arcade shakes his head and adjusts his glasses. "If his condition changes, let me know. And next time please tell me what the emergency is before you drag me all the way up here." His last words are pointed at Raul who totally ignores him. With a final sigh Arcade leaves Jane and Raul with the crazy man.

"I think you should talk to your boss, Boss." Raul drops the butt of his smoke into an ashtray and stands to leave, the bones in his knees cracking slightly as he stands. "Damn these old knees of mine. But seriously, I think he should know he has a loco running around in his tower."

Jane nods to herself as Raul leaves. Mr. House is going to want the report on hers and Boone's patrol, not to mention the crazy guy she has let loose in his home. She makes her way to the elevator. The door bings open and she walks into someone who was getting off.

Boone steadies her as she almost trips over her own feet in an attempt to avoid him. "When did you get back?" He almost sounds accusatory.

Jane feels blood run to her face. She sorta ditched him in Freeside when she met up with Luther. She got so caught up in the moment that she totally forgot that she was supposed to be waiting for him to return with some supplies of his. "Yeah, sorry about that, met an old friend who need some help." A moan comes from the lounge and Jane quickly switches their places. "Speaking of, he is probably very hungry and thirsty. Also he may be crazy, have fun." The elevator doors close on a very flustered Boone.

* * *

Victor greets her in Mr. House's suite. "Well howdy ma'am. Coming to speak with the boss man? Can't say I blame you. That bloke down there does not have all his sheep in to pasture if you catch my meaning." Six isn't surprised to learn that Victor already knows about Luther. The Securatron seems to know about everything that happens within the Lucky 38.

"He won't cause any more trouble. I left Boone with him." Victor makes an agreeing noise and leads her into the conference room. She remembers the first time she met with Mr. House. Needless to say she was disappointed at first. House never shows himself in person. Instead he communicates via a massive computer terminal that he has some sort of link to from wherever he is hiding.

Right now the screen is blank, and all but one of the terminals are shutdown. Victor rolls up to the one terminal that is active and presses a single button. "Sir, Ms. Courier is here to speak with you." Victor rolls backwards out of the room with a metaphorical tip of his hat. Six, Jane, she has to choose one, crosses her arms as the computers screens flicker to life. The humming of all the different computer terminals soon creates a distinct background noise, but there is still no sign of Mr. House's iconic mustached face on the viewing screens.

"I take it your patrol met with success?" House's voice comes through the speakers hidden in the room, making sound as if he is coming from every direction. "I expected you back yesterday."

Jane huffs, somehow he always sound condescending. "You sent us on a patrol along the entire front! Did you honestly expect us to get back within five days?" When his face finally appears on the screen it is the same as always. that raised eye look that always managed to match his tone without ever changing. Right now the expression seems disappointed.

"I expect more out of you."

Jane sighs and runs a hand through her messy hair. "I apologize for the delay. I came across a man in Freeside who had information on my past. As of right now I am leaning towards believing what he told me." She steps up closer to the monitors. "He claims that he met me along the east coast in an area he called the Capital Wasteland. He says that when I left from there it was in the company of on of his associates. That was the last time he saw me. It was almost five years ago according to him. Right after relaying the information to me he suffered from a seizure. He became incoherent and started thrashing about. I had Arcade Gannon take a look at him."

"Arcade claims that he may be suffering from a mental disorder brought on by trauma from his past. That is the only thing keeping me from completely accepting the story he has told me." She trails off and neither she nor Mr. House speak for a few moments. "He says my name is Jane."

"Your name is Jane. As to your meeting this person or traveling with anyone else I do not know."

Her head snaps up. "You knew!" Anger roars inside of her. "You know about my past and you have never thought to tell me!" If she could, she would grab him and shake him. "You fucking stuck up bastard!"

"Ms. Courier, your name nor your personal problems are of no matter. I hired you due to your skills and your ability to move about the Mojave un-hindered. As to withholding information, you never asked or made a point of wanting to know so I never felt the need to tell you." Jane fumes. She can't believe it. She can't believe he has been lying to her. What is worse is that what he just said is totally right. Her problems are nothing compared to what he has to deal with in the day to day running of Vegas. "If that is all," House continues, "you are dismissed. Do make a point to control yourself more thoroughly in the future."


	11. Chapter 11

**This will be an important chapter in the series. Also, just a note to all you readers, this fic will be much shorter than Wandering Path. I would like to have it as a setup for things to come. Does that mean Fallout 4? Is he just kidding? Maybe...**

Chapter 11: Reunions

Luther comes too and is worried when he does not immediately recognize his surroundings. Currently, he is sitting in a comfortable armchair with a cold rag wrapped around his head. The room is well furnished and has a feel that causes one to think it was untouched by the bombs. A nearby vase is turned over, the flowers spread all over the floor, and water is soaking into the carpet. Standing carefully, Luther makes his way over and rights the vase. As he does a man walks into the room.

Luther's hand automatically drops down to his waist for a weapon, but he finds none. The man notices the movement and holds out his hands. "Easy, I don't know who you are or why the Courier brought you here, but you are in no danger from me. Unless you are a Legionary." The man actually sounds as if he is considering that Luther is inline with the Legion.

The man enters further into the room and takes a long rifle off his back. He hangs the weapon on a rack Luther hadn't noticed before. His own gear is also neatly hung on the rack. The man reaches out and lightly brushes his hand over Luther's rifle. "This is an impressive gun. Where did you get it?"

Cautiously, Luther returns to the armchair he woke up in and sits back down. The man turns and looks at him expectantly. "Had it for a long while. It is old, have to keep fixing it nearly ever time I use it. One of these days it is going to blow up in my face. Just can't seem to part with it for some reason though." The man nods and brings a chair over to sit across from Luther. "What about you?" He nods towards the man's rifle. "Where did you get your gun?"

The man crosses his arms and removes the beret he was wearing. "It was issued to me when I joined the First Recon." So this guy is a professional sniper. Good to know. "They tried to take it from me when I quite, but after breaking a man's nose they decided it wasn't worth it."

Luther chuckles. He likes this man. He has a sort of dry nature to him. He sits forward, intending to introduce himself, but a second person enters the room. He looks over his shoulder to see a woman. Right away he remembers. Jane. She brought him into Vegas and questioned him about who she was. She is living in the Lucky 38, a place closed to all others, and works for Mr. House.

 _House is a threat. Use her to kill him._

"Luther, good to see you feeling better." She crosses to the weapon rack and starts strapping on a set of duel revolvers. "No time to catch up on what happened to you. You had a seizure if you don't remember." A seizure? Damn, this problem with his head continues to become worse and worse. "Mr. House wants me to look into some trouble with the Fiends near camp McCarran. I want you to come with me. You too Boone." The sniper stands up and puts his beret back on his head. "We need to get moving. So grab your gear old man."

"Old man?" Luther stands and moves to the weapon rack. He pulls on his gear with the ease of repetition and turns to face Jane. "I may be old, but I have been killing since before you were even an idea." He turns to Boone, "And as for you, well, I have decided that I like you. That does not mean I think you are any good with that rifle. We will just have to see." Making sure that all his weapons are properly secured he follows Boone and Jane to an elevator. The three of them board and Jane presses the ground floor key. "What exactly is going on outside?"

Jane shrugs her shoulders. "Not sure, that is why we are investigating." She pulls out a sheet of crumpled paper and skims it. "Seems there have been reports of explosions, widespread gunfire, and some civilians being caught in the middle of an all out battle between the NCR and the Fiends." She turns the paper over and her brow goes up. "Somehow the Van Graff's have all been slaughtered. Not sure how they fit in to this report. Seems one smaller group of four went into Fiend territory and hasn't come back out yet. A ghoul, a teen, a veteran Ranger, and a man. Hey!"

Luther snatches the letter out of her hand and reads the description of the ghoul and the girl. "Damn, its Tyler and Kc."

"Who?" Boone asks.

"Tyler and Kc. Tyler is my partner and Kc is a junkie tribal we picked up and can't get rid of. I ran out on them. I need to get a fix to make the... To help with an addiction. I assumed they would be smart and just stay put. Figures they get themselves into trouble."

Jane points at the description of the other two people. "What about them?" Luther reads the descriptions. There isn't much about the ranger and the man. Just that they are heavily armed and well trained. Luther shrugs and shakes his head as he hands Jane back the paper. "Right," she says as the elevator door opens and they exit, "lets assume that they are dead..."

"No," Luther interrupts, "Takes more than some raiders to kill Tyler."

* * *

Nick regards the ranger with a careful gaze. For no reason at all the man has decided to link up with him and the others. He pulled Nick into the fight at the overpass, accompanied them to the Silver Rush, and then followed him into the vault to kill the Fiends. He has shown extreme skill and ability, which makes up for the way he never seems to shut up. Still, something about him is off. Hell, Nick doesn't even know his name yet. As of right now the Ranger has been a major help in convincing Hsu to hand over the reward money for the Fiend leaders. Nick had heard about the bounty on them before the attack. He hadn't thought about it again until returning to the camp and realizing that his rampage could pay off. As the Ranger negotiated the prices with Tyler and Kc, Nick headed off to the infirmary to look for Veronica.

He feels bad for having essentially abandoned her earlier when the Fiends attacked. Not like he had much of a choice. She was injured and there was a more pressing issue to deal with. unwillingly he grimaces. He wasn't always such a heartless bastard. Once there was a time where he would have stayed by Veronica's side no matter how many Fiends attacked the base. Her well being would have been his top priority despite not having known her that long. He still cares, just not as much. It does not take much to change a person in the wasteland. Wander around on your own long enough and things will happen that just leave you shaken and different.

Pushing open the flap to the medical tent, he is greeted by the sounds of pain and the smell of death. Wounded people occupy every available surface in the tent. Those that can still stand are lined up around the walls, those that can't have been laid down on anything that is flat and sturdy, including the ground. Doctors and nurses rush about in an attempt to see to everyone's needs. This is the triage area, through another flap is surgery. Through there he can hear the surgeons calling for clamps, suction, plasma, blood bags, scalpels, and everything else they need. It seems that everyone who does not already have an assignment elsewhere in the camp is here helping out. Even some of those with minor wounds are doing their best to speed the process along.

Nick makes his way into surgery. "Hey," A doctor shouts at him as he enters, "get a mask on or get out!" Nick grabs a surgical mask from a passing nurse and ties it around his face. Approaching the operating table of the one who shouted at him he can immediately tell that the patient is not going to make it. Despite that the surgeon is doing her best to keep him alive. "Damn it, stay with me!" Nick reaches out and grabs her arm. He locks eyes with her and shakes her head. An unspoken message passes between them. This soldier can not be saved, wasting time on him will cost others their lives.

The surgeon steps back and calls for them to bring her a new patient. "Make sure he is comfortable." she tells the men who pick up her current patient. "He won't last much longer. The soldier is lifted onto a gurney and carried outside. Nick steps up to an empty table and counts how many actual surgeons there are. Only five. He pulls on some nearby scrubs and shouts for a nurse, Veronica can wait a little longer. No one questions who he is and a patient is brought to his table. The man has taken a belly wound and there is more blood than there should be.

"Get me some suction," he orders the nurse standing opposite the table of him. She does and starts to drain some of the blood. "Check his blood type and get him a kit as soon as you can." She nods and does what he says, disappearing as he takes a scalpel and expertly begins to work. He finds three separate bullets and tosses them into a nearby pan. Still something seems wrong. He carefully pushes a hand down under one of the man's intestines and, sure enough he finds a fourth bullet. As he removes the lead the nurse returns with the blood and hooks the soldier up. "Clamp." she hands him a clamp and he closes off the artery that is still bleeding. Taking a needle he begins to stitch the wound. When he is done he steps back. "Close for me." The nurse nods and does as he says.

Nick steps over to another table and continues to work. Hours tick by and the number of patients never seems to end. He finishes amputating the leg of a female soldier and steps away as a nurse closes for him. He turns to the table behind him, expecting to see another wounded, but the table is empty. For the first time in hours he looks up at the rest of the room. Most of the operating tables now lie empty save for one. The other surgeons are removing their scrubs and moving to post-op to check on their patients. The female surgeon he spoke to earlier walks up to him as she removes her gloves. "I don't know who you are or where you learned what you know, but you showed up right when we needed you." She offers a hand and Nick shakes it. "My name is Gabby, what's yours?"

"I have a lot of names and titles, but people I respect can call me Nick." She smiles at him indicates for him to follow.

"Well Nick, your help is much appreciated." They step into post-op and the flurry of activity beyond is stunning. There are bunks packed down with three people each. There are even mats laid out on the floor. Those with simple wounds such as broken arms and the like are standing or sitting along the wall. "We more understaffed than usual. Two of our surgeons were killed during the initial attack. They were trying to get some of the wounded here and ended up getting killed themselves." They pass one of the soldiers Nick operated on and out of instinct he check the patient clipboard at the foot of the man's bunk. Gabby steps up beside him. "You are good, probably one of the best I have seen. But you are not NCR. Your gear looks more like a mercenaries."

Nick returns the clipboard, satisfied that the man will pull through. "I am a mercenary, but my Father was a doctor. He taught me a lot when I was younger. We grew up in a vault so I learned a lot about treating colds and the occasional broken arm. When I got out into the wasteland I realized that my skill would easily qualify me as a doctor anywhere, but I wanted to learn more. I read every medical journal I cam across, which wasn't many, but they helped."

Gabby nods. "I was taught back in the Bone Yard. They sent me out here when they realized that the Legion wasn't just going to lay down and give up. Been here ever since the war started." She looks around with a sad expression. "I am the top surgeon now that those two I mentioned are dead." She looks back at him and smiles weakly. "If you need a job, we sure could use you around here."

It would be a lie if he said he did not consider it for a moment. Staying and helping people sure sounds better than wandering around in search of odd jobs. Then again, he still has hopes of finding the woman he has been searching for. The woman whose trail has led him here. He is spared from answering Gabby's request by the appearance of Veronica. "There you are!" Nick and Gabby turn see the short scribe push her way through the crowd to them. Before Nick can say anything she slams a fist into his shoulder. "Don't you dare ever run off on me like that again! I thought you were among the dead out back for sure!"

Nick rubs his shoulder and glare angrily at the short woman. "Where I choose to go is none of your concern. Accompanying me was your choice and I warned you of the possibility of my dying. You were wounded. Did you honestly think I would drag you into a fire fight with a bum leg?"

Veronica puts her hands on her hips. "Don't even get me started on that! You shot me! With a laser rifle! Where I had already been shot!"

He refuses to raise his voice, despite the growing ire in him. "I did that to stop the flow of blood from your wound so I could apply a stimpack properly. If I hadn't you would have bleed out before we even got close to McCarran. No matter what you think, what you went through, or how much pain you experienced, you are alive because of me."

All the fight evaporates from her. She leans forward until her head is resting against his chest. Nick is taken off guard by the act. He isn't a touchy person and isn't sure exactly what to do. Awkwardly he pats her shoulder as a few tears gather in the corners of her eyes. She sniffs once and straightens up, not allowing the tears to fall. "I'm sorry Traveler, I was just worried about you."

Nick hesitates before reaching out and squeezing her shoulder again. "You can call me Nick."

* * *

Jane enters Camp McCarren with Luther and Boone in tow. The trio make their way through the battlefield towards the former airport now control center of NCR operations in New Vegas. She plans on searching out Colonel Hsu to get some answers, but actually doesn't have to do any searching at all. The man is standing outside the airport and is engaged in a heated argument with two others. As they approach the catch the last of the fight. "Fine," Hsu shouts, "fine, the damn traitor can have his caps! He has caused enough trouble already!"

"Trouble," the one speaking now is wearing full Ranger veteran armor, "that man saved this camp, stopped the Fiends suppliers, and brought you the heads of the Fiend leadership. Because of him Vegas stands to see a huge decrease in Fiend related incidents for a long time!" Well, Jane thinks, that answers most of her questions. Hsu notices her approaching and sighs heavily.

She beams at his long expression. "Aww, don't be so down Shoe man, I just came to see if you needed any help."

The Colonel sighs again. "I do not need the kind of help that you offer, Courier Six." The Ranger and the other man who Jane now realizes is a ghoul turn to look at their group. The ghoul narrows his eyes and reaches for a sawed off shotgun at his waist. Jane instinctively pulls one of her revolvers out of its holster.

"Make a move rot-face and I will end you." Before she or the ghoul can say anything else, Luther has stepped forward and pushed her arm down.

"What the hell is your problem woman," he growls, "you looking to get yourself killed? No one pulls a gun on my partner Tyler and lives." So this is Luther's ghoul companion? She looks the man up and down and isn't very impressed. Aside from the sawed off he still has a hand on he is only carrying a different caliber shotgun. "Tyler," Luther says, "this is Jane, she is the last person we saw Nick with back in D.C. remember?"

The ghoul takes his hand off his gun and crosses his arms. He nods his head and looks her up and down. "You look different."

Jane sneers, "You look like a corpse." The ghoul throws back his head and barks a short laugh.

"Keep it up smoothskin bitch, and I will use to repaint the walls around here."

"Enough," Hsu shouts, "I don't want any more violence around here, God knows we have seen enough of it already. Why don't you lot just go do your reunion elsewhere so I can put my camp back together." Hsu marches off, leaving them all standing around not sure of what to do.

"So," Tyler says to Luther, "what happened to you? Kc and I thought you had run off for good this time."

Luther heaves a sigh, "Simple, I am going insane and there is nothing..." He trails off and seems to be listening to someone speaking. "No, I don't have to tell them about that, so shut the hell up." Jane is a little taken aback. Sure, Arcade said he may have something wrong with his head, but this is the fist actual sign of it being true, aside from the seizure. Tyler, however, does not seem surprised at all.

"Tell the voice in your head to fuck off while I am talking to you." The ghoul turns to Jane. "So, girl, what exactly are you doing here?" Jane takes a breath and quickly gives the default story about how she was shot in the head and got revenge. As she finishes Tyler cracks a small smile. "And I thought I was a tough bastard to kill. You got a bullet through your skull and all it did was piss you off? Heh, I find that I am liking you more and more girl."

"Ma'am," Boone cuts in, "we do have an assignment to get to."

"Right," Jane nods, "do any of you have relevant information about the attack here?" The ranger speaks then.

"Yep, I was on the front lines with one of theirs. The two of us held off the bulk of the Fiend forces while the soldiers her retook the camp. After that we discovered that Tyler here knew about how the Fiends got a hold of their energy weapons. We tracked down the source and put them out of business, permanently."

Jane rubs her head, "The suppliers wouldn't happen to be the Van Graff siblings would they?" The ranger nods, as does Tyler, "Great."

"After that we hunted down the Fiend leadership one by one. We even took out Motor Runner! I wasn't there to see it, but I assume it was gory. Nick said it was personal because they killed his dog. I know that If someone killed my dog, If I had a do, which I don't and probably never will, I would want their heads on spikes as well. More so, i would probably scalp them and wear them around so people knew I mean business. You think scalps are scary right?" Jane heard all he said, but her focus is on one name. Nick. It couldn't be the same Nick that Luther told her about, could it?

"Hey," Tyler shouts suddenly, surprising everyone, "There he is, Nick over here." They all turn to see a man in a long coat walking towards them. On his back is a new rifle and a sword with a feather tied to the hilt. There is a leather band around his head, keeping his long dirty blonde hair out of his pale blue eyes as well as a trimmed goatee around his mouth. At his waist are twin revolvers, just like Jane's. Walking behind him is a short woman wearing simple brown robes and carrying only a power fist. As he approaches, he locks eyes with Jane. He stops dead in his tracks and stares at her with a mixed expression of shock and disbelief. "What," Tyler asks in confusion, "you look like you have seen a ghost."

Without a word Nick walks up to Jane. She steps back, totally taken off guard by the man's piercing gaze. He stops barely a foot from her. She can't help but notice the smell that comes off of him. He smells of antiseptic and blood, like he just came out of a hospital, but beneath that, she can smell smoke. Old leather. And something that makes her think of her time spent in Zion. His hand comes up and gently brushes her jaw. For a moment she feels something, a fleeting flutter, but then it is gone. She knocks away his hand. "Watch it buddy."

A spark appears in his eye and a smile slowly spreads across his hand. "You haven't changed." That defeats any defiance she had tried to build with the slapping away of his hand. "Three years," he continues, "three years of searching, and you haven't changed one bit."

"Who are you?"

His smile fades. "You don't remember?"

She reaches up and pulls back her hair to reveal the long scar along her skull, "I was shot in the head and woke up a year ago with no memory of who I am or where I came from. I hunted down the men who shot me in the hopes of finding answers, but got none."

He lowers his head. "You and I worked together for two years. Then, three years ago, you vanished during a routine delivery. I have been crisscrossing the nation looking for you ever since. And now I find you, and you don't even remember?" She shakes his head. "I am the Wanderer, I am the crazy man who saved your life. I am Nick."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Taking a Breather

Tyler eases himself down into the armchair that has sort of become his and sighs in content. It has been nearly a month since their happy little band got back together and things have been nonstop ever since.

First there were the issues with Nick and Jane. The two of them seem to have completely different takes on their reunion. Nick could only stare at her and answer in question with a slightly hurt look on his face. Jane only seemed interested in finding out more about herself. It is understandable, Tyler supposes, for one who has been dealing with amnesia, but you could at least pretend to be grateful towards the one who spent three years of their life searching for you.

Perhaps that is part of the problem. While Nick can tell her all about the time they spent together, he has no idea what happened to her in the two years she was absent from him before becoming the infamous Courier Six, saint and devil of New Vegas.

With tensions high between the two people who are, admittedly, the leaders of the two groups that are now attempting to work together, things haven't been easy.

Tyler never saw himself as the type to just follow orders, but since hooking back up with Nick he has found that he mostly just stick by what he suggests. A lot has changed over the years, and Tyler is more than confident that Nick could get them out of anything. He isn't all that sure about Jane though.

Sure, the woman has done well for herself. She has ensured that House keeps her around by making herself invaluable to Vegas, and she has the loyalty of the people she works with, but she just seems too self centered to actually lead all that well. Sure she can fight and kill just as well as the rest of them, and she has a way of getting under your skin and exposing all your dark secrets, but she just isn't the type of person Tyler can see himself following into a fight.

So with that happy little detail, things could have been going worse. After the encounter at McCarran, Jane took them all back to the Lucky 38 and introduced them to Mr. House himself, sort of. Since coming to Vegas, Tyler has heard all sorts of stories about how House has been alive since before the war and has been running Vegas ever since. He expected to meet a ghoul like him. Instead all they see is a bunch of large computer screens and a condescending face. Just a little disappointing.

House didn't seem very interested in them. He gave off the feeling that he only cares about results, not the means to achieve those results. Considering the way Jane acts, that makes a lot of since to Tyler.

In they end Luther and Nick had a long argument over the proposition House put to them. House offered them the shelter of his casino in exchange for their loyalty and service. That and a lot of caps weekly. Nick liked the offer, though Tyler can't shake the thought that it is only because it allows him to be closer to Jane. Luther on the other hand wanted to get out of town as quickly as possible.

Nick eventually won out and they stuck around. They have been getting all sorts of jobs from House. Jane says this level of activity is not normal for him. She feels like something is going to happen soon. Tyler cares about as much as a deathclaw cares when you hit it with a stick, which is to say not at all. The only thing he cares about right now is how badly his knees are hurting after all the extra walking he has had to do with House as his employer. For example, he just got back from delivering a message to some people in a town called Novac. Seriously, that is all, a fucking delivery job. He is starting to agree with Luther on packing up and leaving. Then again...

Tyler has traveled with Luther for a long time. Hell, the met because Tyler saved Luther's ass, but the way he has been recently has got him worried. Luther tries to hid it, but everyone can see the way he zones out. The way he tilts his head as if there is someone speaking whom only he can hear. They way he gets into moods and cuts himself off. Jane told him about the seizure. Tyler wouldn't really call Luther his friend, but that doesn't mean he isn't concerned.

Preoccupied with these thoughts Tyler doesn't notice when Kc enters the room. The junkie girl sits down opposite him and hold her chin in her hand. Realizing that Tyler isn't aware of her presence she snaps her fingers.

Tyler jerks his head towards her and scowls. "What? You need something girl?"

Kc rolls her eyes. "You were out of it. What, you hit the jet already?"

"Jet gets you hyper idiot!" Tyler stands and walks over to a liquor cabinet. "If you want to zone out you used med-x." He takes down a bottle of something and a glass. As he pours his drink Kc stand stands and joins him.

"Make me one too?"

It is a question. He considers being an asshole and saying no, but decides he is too tired for it. He takes down a second glass and fills it. He lifts his and they clink their drinks together. Tyler throws his back easily, but Kc gags and nearly spits her out with a sound of disgust. "What is this some sort of poison? it is disgusting!"

Tyler shrugs his shoulders and looks for a label on the bottle, but isn't one. "I don't know, tastes like the stuff I once had back east in an area known as Point Lookout. Folks there made their own drink. Maybe this is something similar." Kc puts her glass down and glares at it distastefully. "If you don't like it then just don't drink it for fucks sake. Spoiled little princess."

"You don't know anything about me!" That came out of no where. "I am not a fucking princess! I am not fucking spoiled!"

Tyler shrugs. "How the hell am I supposed to know anything about you? You never told us where you are from, who you are, or even what had happened to you when we found you? Not my fault if I make assumptions based solely on your attitude, princess."

Kc deflates noticeably. She takes her glass and returns to the chair she was sitting in. Tyler follows and eases himself back down into his armchair. They are quite for a long while as Kc appears to think deeply. She looks up at him and pushes some of her hair out of her face. "I haven't told you, because I wasn't sure I trusted you."

That makes no sense to Tyler, which is exactly what he tells her. "That makes not sense. If you didn't trust me then why did you follow me and Luther around for so long?"

She looks down into her glass and swirls the liquid around. "I don't know, you two were the first to show actual concern for me in a long time." She takes a sip of her drink and grimaces at the taste again. "Suppose I really needed some company for a while and you two were the only ones around."

Tyler sits forward. "What happened to you?" Kc stiffens slightly. "When Luther and I found you out there, it was clear you had dragged yourself a long ways. Not to mention the state of your legs and fee. According to him, you were near a grenade when it went off. That right?"

Subconsciously the girl reaches down and tugs at her pants. she has worn the same pair ever since Tyler lifted them off a merchant a few weeks before arriving in New Vegas. The wounds from whatever happened to her left nasty scars, and Tyler was easily able to tell she was ashamed of them. That is why he got her the pants. Not because he cares or anything.

"I..." she starts slow, "I was once part of a tribe." Tyler had guessed that already. The girl was wicked good with a knife. Hell, any melee weapon for that matter. Not to mention her severe addiction to chems. All sights of being a tribal. "We were the toughest around our area. No other tribes messed with us." She takes another sip of her drink and this time shows no reaction to the taste. "One day my parents took me out on a hunt. It wasn't my first time, but I was still new at it. While we were gone, the camp was attacked."

"When we got back, everyone was dead. Their bodies were piled up in the middle of the camp. They were riddled with bullet holes and gashes, but there were no other bodies around, only ours. From the looks of things, the camp was set upon suddenly and without warning. Our warriors had no chance of defending themselves."

"My father took my mother and me to the tribe he hailed from. The Great Khans. They would not let us in. They claimed we were marked by death and that by letting us in they would be bringing death upon themselves. Again and again we were turned away. Wherever we went misfortune followed. Nearly a year after our tribe was wiped out, my father was killed by a band of raiders. My mother and I escaped, but shew as never the same again. She became distant, reclusive, she stopped talking and eating. She wouldn't sleep. I woke up one morning, and she was gone."

There is a pause before she continues. "I kept moving. I knew that if I stayed still I would die like they did. I stole. I killed. I stayed alive by being smarter or higher than everyone else. I am not as affected by chems as others. Instead of impairing me they wake me up." Tyler shakes his head. Not a very long ago he was carrying her around because she overdosed. So she is either lying, or he was right and she doesn't know when to quite. As if reading her thoughts she continues, "But sometimes I overdo it. Just to get an actual high. I need an escape. Just like everyone else. Just like you and Luther. That is why I steal your chems sometimes."

"Because you have exhausted your supply." Tyler comments dryly. Kc flinches slightly at the tone of his voice. Damn, he didn't mean that the way it sounded. "You still haven't told me what happened to your legs."

She rubs her knees. "I was out on my own. Some merchants came up and offered to trade. I tagged along with them for a few days. A few of the guards kept making advances on me, but I always found ways of avoiding them. Then one night they all came at me at once. They... They..." She trails off. Tyler is able to put two and two together.

"You don't have to say any more."

She nods. "When they were done, they left me lying there and stood around laughing. They didn't realize how close I was to the brahmin. I dragged myself over and took a grenade. I pulled the pin and rolled it towards them. I didn't care any more if I lived or died. I just wanted them dead. The grenade went off, killing many of them right away and tearing the others into pieces. I am lucky I was so close to the brahmin, the beast took a lot of the damage for me, but not all of it."

"As I dragged myself away I could hear some of the guards who were still alive. I looked back. There was this one whose arms were useless. He was glaring at me and spitting up all his blood. There was a pleading look in his eyes. He couldn't shoot himself. He couldn't end his suffering. He wanted me to do it. He wanted me to take mercy on him. I just crawled away and let him bleed."

There is a long silence as she lets her last statement hang in the air. There are not a lot of things that can disgust Tyler, but what those men did is one of them. As far as he is concerned, they got off easy.

"I don't know how long I dragged myself like that." Kc continues. "Everything is a haze. When I felt someone messing around with my legs, I panicked. I thought one of the merchants had found me again. When I opened my eyes and saw Luther and you, that didn't help. I had no idea who you were or what Luther was doing to me. All I knew was that it hurt. So I struggled. It took you grabbing me and shouting that you were trying to save my pathetic ass to make me stay still long enough for Luther to bandage me up."

"After that, I just needed some decent people to be around. You two are not exactly decent, but you are better than what I have been with before. At least with you two I don't have to worry about accidentally leading someone on until they decided to take action themselves." Tyler stares at her. Not understanding what she is saying for a moment.

"No," he growls.

"What?" she appears genuinely confused.

"That was not your fault."

"...But I didn't do anything to make them think they shouldn't..."

"No!" Tyler stand and takes Kc's hands. "What they did was wrong. What they did they did because they wanted to. Nothing you did caused those dirty scum bags to act like that. None of it was your fault. Stop being a child and blaming yourself. Let others take responsibility for their actions while you take responsibility for yours. They came onto you, and you made them pay. It is as simple as that."

"I..."

"It is as simple as that." Tyler growls forcefully. He refuses to break eye contact with her. She tries to look anywhere in the room except at him. Eventually she is forced to look up. She holds his gaze for a few seconds, and then nods. "Good." He sits back down and throws back the rest of his drink. "Never let me hear you try and take the blame for something someone else did ever again. That is a road to sever pain. Trust me, I know."

* * *

Luther stares at the stumps on his hand where two of his fingers used to be. The two stumps twitch slightly when the flexes his remaining fingers. The wound is getting old now and he has long since learned to operate his rifle with only two fingers and a thumb, but every now and then some phantom pain shows up, like now.

He sighs and looks at his other hand. This one still has all its fingers, but they move stiffly and he has no feeling in most of them. All of these wounds came from the same incident. When he had to hold himself and Tyler up from a collapsing building. Nick was the one who stitched up up later and removed the two useless fingers. Having received some medical training while in the Enclave, he knows that taking them was the right choice, yet he still harbors some resentment towards Nick for actually doing the deed.

 _He just wants to make you weaker so he can kill you and take over._

For fucks sake. He tilts the bottle of whiskey he has been nursing up and drains the whole thing. Previously drinking has made the voice shut up and bugger off, now it only seems to make it angry. He has been sitting out on the roof of the Lucky 38 for almost two hours now and the voice hasn't let him have a single moment to himself.

 _To yourself? What ever do you mean? You and I are one and the same. You do not end and I begin, we simply are. But you feel it don't you? You can feel yourself loosing control. Good. The more you fight me, the stronger I will become. The more you resist, the more persistent I will be._

As if to demonstrate its new found power, Luther's hand moves up on its own. His two good fingers curl inward and then flex back out. He strains, attempting to put his hand down.

 _You see? I am taking over. More and More I become a part of you. Why don't you just accept it? Why don't you just lie down and rest for a bit? I will take care of us. I will make us great again!_

It sounds good. He is so tired. He needs a chance to sleep. To rest. Part of him wants to give in. To let the voice take over and run his life for him. How bad could it be? It isn't like he is dying. He would just be taking some R&R. He starts to feel himself slip into the void again. So easy. To just. Give. In. _Good._ He wants to. He wants to just be left alone. To not have to worry about going mad any more. To just feel empty. To live in the darkness. _Yes. This is good Luther. Give in. I will take care of us. don't you worry. Just sleep._

Sleep...

 _Sleep!_


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Field Agents and Alter Egos

Nick sits down at the table with his tray of slop and takes a test bite. He grimaces as the foul substance hits his tongue. He lowers his fork slightly and growls something under his breath. Two of the other inmates glance at him out of the corner of their eyes quickly before looking away. Deciding the food is a not go he idly scratches at his blue prisoner's jumpsuit. The NCR's Correctional Facility is lacking in several regards, and all of them are starting to get on Nick's nerves.

For one all of the guards are dirty. Not like they are corrupt, but actually dirty. They look just as sick and malnourished as the prisoners they have been tasked with guarding. They look as if they would be ready to riot right along with the prisoners if that ever happened. Then there is the lack of restrictions. Prisoners are allowed to go anywhere they want within the facility, excluding the guard towers and main office. They can sleep where they want. Eat when they want. Do whatever they want whenever during the day. Things here are bad. And if their information is correct, things will soon be getting worse.

He looks up as another inmate comes and sits across from him. Her short hair and small frame should have made her a prime target of the other prisoners, but the way she has attached herself to his hip since their arrival together has kept her safe. Not to mention all the broken noses she handed out on her first day. "Remind me again why we are here?" Veronica asks under her breath as she digs into her food.

Nick continues to scratch at his jumpsuit. "Because House says that one of his other agents who is station here hasn't reported in for too long. Jane wants us to find out what is going on here and put a stop to it. If something here in any way hinders House's operations with the NCR in this area, he needs to know." He takes another bite of the food and forces himself to swallow it down. "That and the great service." Veronica smirks at him, likely recalling the time not so long ago when he had her eat a gecko when she really didn't want to. "Don't say a word. Gecko is good, actual meat, this is just recycled shit."

Out of his peripheral vision he spots three forms approaching them. "Get ready, company." Veronica nods and keeps eating. When they were sent in, House made sure that the NCR guards stationed at the facility had no idea of their true identities, only the facilities top dog knows they are here, and he will only be able to recognize them with a code phrase House gave them. House also made sure that the two of them have a huge reputation, that way they could get easy respect from the inmates. Now all Nick and Veronica have to do is live up to their fake identities. This is something that Nick will find easy, and fun.

One of the inmates leans over his table and takes his bottle of water. "So, you are the one who let the Legion into Forlorn Hope eh?" He drinks from Nicks bottle. "They say you killed six veteran rangers." His two buddies chuckle. "He doesn't look like a killer to me." He slams the bottle down on the table. "You don't look like a killer to me!" Nick ignores him and takes another bite of his food. "Hey, I am talking to you!"

Nick still does not respond to she man shifts his attention to Veronica. "And you. Heard tell that you think you are tough. Think you can go around breaking people's noses?" One of his buddies edges him on. "Well you can't little girl." He reaches out and strokes Veronica's chin. Keep it together, Nick urges her with his eyes. "What about me teaching you a lesson?"

"This food sucks." Nick growls.

Instantly the man's attention is back on him. "What was that?"

Nick takes his fork and slams it into the man's chest! Before the man can make a sound Nick reaches up and grabs his throat, slamming his head down onto the table. "I said the food sucks, I wonder," Nick leans forward and sniffs the mans bleeding chest, "would you taste better?" He jerks the fork out of the man and runs the bloody metal along his mouth.

As he releases the prisoner and stands, they all back away. "You are crazy man," He prisoner shouts as he holds his wound, "bat shit crazy!"

Nick smiles and takes a step towards them. "You have to admit, anything will taste better than that slop." For added emphasis Nick licks his lips. All three prisoners scramble backwards over themselves to get away. Nick makes a disappointed sound, "Have it your way then." He returns to his seat and notices that Veronica is staring at him with suspicion in her eyes. "Before you ask, no, I am not actually a cannibal, but yes, I have partaken of some human flesh before."

She nearly gags. "What? Why?"

Nick rolls his neck and it pops a few times. "Shock and Awe. There were these bastards coming after me and I knew they wouldn't stop until I was taken care of. So one day I decide I am tired of running. They catch up with me and I kill one of them. Before the others can do anything I start acting all savage and tear into the body, ripping off pieces of flesh with my teeth and hands. They were disgusted and shocked enough to forget the who thing and run." Nick forces himself to finish the rest of his slop. "Also, it conveys a message. What I just did conveys a message. And if I have it right, we will be getting an offer very soon."

As if on que a man sits down next to Veronica. He is small of frame and has a serious burn scar on the left side of his face. One of his eyes is a milky white color and likely useless. "Oy," the man growls, "name's Slit, I saw what you did there. Nice piece of work that. I's thinking. You seems like the sort that does this sorta thing without no thought about why. Am I right?" Nick nods without looking up from his food. Veronica is tying to ignore the foul smell coming from the man next to her. "I's saying that you and me haves a little chat yeah? Say, tonight behind the guard barracks?"

Nick nods again and the man leaves with a satisfied expression. "See," Nick smiles at Veronica, "message conveyed."

Veronica shakes her head. "I don't like the way House keeps sending us on these missions without all the details. Like, I still don't understand how in the hell he got us in here no questions asked."

Nick shrugs it off. "He is the master of Vegas, the literal heart of this entire area. He can do whatever the fuck he wants."

His tone is slightly annoyed and Veronica picks up on it. "Sounds to me like to resent his power over you."

"He doesn't have power over me. He has power over Jane. As long as Jane is under his command, then she is in danger. I don't know enough about that man to trust him with her life."

"She has been working with him for a year now on her own? Sounds like you are just being overprotective of someone who does not need protection in the first place. Why don't you just trust her and move on? You fond her, she is alive, isn't that what you set out to do?"

Nick is silent as he thinks. On many levels Veronica is right. He is has been something of an ass towards Jane recently. Most of the others don't know it, but the last time they spoke it was in a heated argument. Nick was trying to convince Jane that House is bad news, but Jane defended him stubbornly. He knows that he presuming a lot, expecting Jane to see things his way, and he feels bad for it. She has done fine on her own for years now. That said, he has this feeling that he cannot shake. House is bad news, he knows it. He learned long ago to trust his instincts and his crazy.

Sometimes though he gets confused. He sees things that others can't. Hears sounds that are not there. Why can't others hear the crows like he does? There are even some of the vile little birds roosting along the fence of the facility right now. One of them is watching him with a glint in its eye, like it knows something. Nick stands and goes over to it, ready to receive its words of wisdom.

* * *

Later that same Night Veronica is awoken by a slightly frantic Nick. He clamps a hand down on her mouth and puts a finger to his lips. She stands as he releases her. He motions for her to follow and she does. He leads her outside the bunkhouse and around to the back. Once there he casts a gaze around to make sure no one is around. "What is up, Nick?" She asks sleepily.

"The Powder." he responds simply. She stares at him, not understanding. "The Powder Gangers." As if that makes much more sense. "They will take the explosives and break out of here, tonight. We have to stop them."

Veronica gently grips Nick's shoulders, "I think that food you at is getting to you. You need to rest or something."

Nick shakes his head in frustration. "There isn't any time. Slit told me about it and the crows confirmed it. The red is back Veronica! They have red explosives!" As he speaks the camp is shaken by an explosion. "Fuck, it has started!" He takes off running and Veronica runs after him. She has no idea what is going on, or if Nick actually is aware of the situation, but explosions are usually very bad.

They round a corner to see a guard tower engulfed in flames. There are lots of people running about. They are shouting and whooping and screaming. In the light cast by the burning tower it is hard to tell who is who. "We need to get to the facilitator! He has our weapons!" Nick grabs her arm and drags her through the crowd.

A hand grabs her ankle and she is pulled to the ground. She twists around to see the prisoner Nick threatened before. She struggles, but he has her arms pinned to her sides. "Hey girlie!" some spit hits her face as he speaks. "My turn to make a bitch out of you!" His hands grope her and try to tear open her jumpsuit. A primal force awakes inside of her as her training kicks in. She heaves upwards, flipping them over and reversing their positions. Before he can recover she slams a palm into his face, forcing his nose up into his brain and killing him. She feels no remorse.

She jumps back to her feet and runs towards the main office. There are others running along with her. The other prisoners! They have dynamite! The red explosives! Nick did know what was going to happen! Gunshots ring out from the office and Veronica hits the ground! Damn, she is too late! The NCR officers are already fighting back. She hopes Nick has somehow found a way to get to the facilitator!

Another hand grabs her leg and drags her backwards. She kicks with her free leg and feels something crunch. There is a startled shout followed by cursing. Veronica propels herself forward, swinging frantically at the shape that is still trying to restrain her. Suddenly a fist rockets towards her! She just barely manages to doge it, but it was a feint. A second fist connects with the side of her head and stars burst in her eyes. She feels herself being lifted up and tossed over a set of powerful shoulders.

She shakes her head, attempting to regain control of herself. She starts to struggle again, beating her fists into the back of whoever is carrying her. Her attacker's grip tightens on her leg and pain flares up through her muscles. "Damn it all Veronica it is me!" Nick!?

"Put me down!" If Nick hears her he does not respond. All around them are explosions and gunfire. People scream and howl as the fight goes on. She has no Idea where Nick is taking her. "We have to stop the riot!" Again Nick ignores her. "Nick!" Finally he tosses her to the ground. Before she can even breath he has her by the front of her jumpsuit.

His face is so close to hers she can almost count the beads of sweat on his forehead. His steely eyes bore into her. "We are getting the hell out of here right now." He keeps his grip on her and drags her to her feet as he starts running. She stumbles at first but soon gains her balance and follows him. Together they sprint towards the facilities main entrance. Without slowing down Nick leaps over a low barrier where some guards were holding their ground. He spins and dropkicks both of the men.

Veronica charges past him and slams into the office door! It bursts in and she topples to the ground, shielding her head as bullets rocket through air! Nick jumps over her and moves into the room like a raging animal! Veronica gets to her feet and attacks the guard nearest her. The man comes at her with a baton. At first she just tries to evade him. He is just dong his job and doesn't know they are on the same side. As far as he can tell she is just another prisoner trying to make it out. Finally she stops holding back and ends up braking his arm.

Nick grabs her again and drags out of the exit into the wasteland. They sprint up a nearby hill and don't stop until the correctional facility is far behind them. They double over as they try to gain their breath. "What," pant, "are we," pant, "going to do now?"

Nick holds up a hand and sucks in air. He points back towards the facility. Veronica turns and her eyes widen. From this distance the entire place seems to be on fire. She can tell some of the other prisoners found their escape route, but most still seem to be fighting within. Seconds later a massive explosion rocks the ground and topples most of the facility. The heat from the blast whips past them, nearly knocking Veronica back over. She looks over her shoulder at Nick. "I made sure that only a few of those sick bastards would make it out." That is all he says.

"What about the NCR guards!" She is sickened by the fact that he could so easily kill that many innocents.

He shakes his head. "Casualties of war. People die. Every day people die. Good people. People who don't deserve it. While people like me, monsters, keep on living. Why is that? Because we will do what it takes. We are survivors."

"This isn't a war!" Veronica practically screams.

Nick gives her a level gaze. "Yes, it is." She is stunned. "Every day you breath a new breath is a war. Every second you live is a war. This is the wasteland!" He is shouting at her now. "This entire fucking world is a damn war zone! You cannot change it! I cannot change it! House cannot change it! Why? Because if you like it or not, war never changes!"

* * *

 **Just an update, I may be unable to update on a regular basis. I apologize for this and hope all of you will stick with me. Leave a review, thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Memory lost and gained

Nick takes a quick glance up at Veronica. She hasn't spoken a single word since they left the correctional facility. He feels somewhat bad for having gotten so angry. He wasn't upset with her, but she was the one who received the brunt of it. The idea that he is angry simply at the mission having gone south is appealing, but in reality the source of the anger is something else entirely. House.

That bastard computer screen set them up. There is no doubt in his mind. House has been sending he and Veronica out on the most dangerous of assignments. At first he believed it simply to be a test of their skills. Now he thinks differently. While that stupid screen hasn't been openly hostile, there has been a sort of passive aggressiveness coming from him ever since Nick mentioned his time spent traveling with Jane. Seems the House does not like the idea of someone from Jane's past showing up and possibly taking his most valuable asset away from him. So he discards said person by handing out the assignments most likely to get them killed.

None of this would have occurred to Nick until their escape from the facility. Before the riot broke out, he managed to get an audience with the top dog. He went in to the office and dropped the pass phrase that was supposed to identify him to the man, but the dog only gave him a blank stare and ordered the guards to escort the crazy inmate back outside.

House promised them that the intel was good. That he was giving them a fail-safe. Instead he gave them noting. House knew that riot was going to happen, that was the reason he sent them in there in the first place. He wanted them to be killed either by the NCR forces there, or by the inmates, or even to get put on the wanted list.

Nick lets out an unconscious growl that causes Veronica to look up warily. He shakes his head at her, "Its nothing." She nods and lays back down. Nick sighs inwardly. He really does feel bad, he just ins't sure exactly how to go about expressing it. Been so long since he has had to deal with anything resembling civilized company. He ends up just watching her as she sleeps fitfully. She shudders as a brisk wind sweeps by. Without that pass phrase, they were unable to get their gear back. They've been stuck with nothing more than the jumpsuits from the facility. Nick even had to turn in his pipboy, so they are both exposed and lost. Veronica shudders again. Nick unzips he top of his jumpsuit and shrugs it off. Gently he drapes the blue material over her before sitting back down. Veronica lets out a peaceful sigh in her sleep.

The muscles in Nick's face tug backwards. It takes him a moment to realize he is smiling. Not one of the sadistic smiles that so often graces his features, but an actual, soft, happy, smile. Curiously he rubs his cheek, still grinning like an idiot. The last time he smiled like this was before...

Before he lost Dogmeat.

The memory of that night makes him shudder and a tear threatens to fall from his eye. Dogmeat. His loyal friend and faithful companion. The only creature in the wasteland who never judged him for the things he did. The only other one who stuck by him not matter what. Dogmeat saved his life so many times, and not just in battle. When there were nights plagued with nightmares. Days filled with withdraw from chems. Hours where his body was racked with uncontrollable spasms and shakes, a side affect from his over-exposure to radiation in DC. Dogmeat was there. A warmth against the bitter cold. Always with a cheerful bark, or a concerned lick to the hand. Nick would crawl to the floor and bury his face in the dogs fur until the attacks were done.

That tear finally falls. Nick draws in a shuddering breath to steady himself. Remember, Dogmeat has been avenged. Motor-Runner is finally dead. Few things have felt as good as when Nick crushed the life out of that fiend. The look of pleading mercy in Motor-Runner's eyes only driving him further. The man had actually had the nerve to beg for his life! As if he somehow thought his words would be worth something to Nick! DAMN IT ALL!

Nick leaps to his feet and starts pacing back and forth like a caged animal. He breaths hard, angry ripping through him. All of this is bullshit! House! Motor-Runner! The Legion! NCR! And especially Jane! Fuck them all!

What the hell is the point? He went through hell and back to find his father in DC, and when the does the bastard only cares about fixing the fucking purifier. Then he gets killed and Nick is left to carry out the work of a man who never cared for him yet claimed to be his father, nearly dying in the process! To top that he now has to live with the side effects of all the radiation he soaked up! Then thee is Jane! The two of them were close for years! They crossed the wasteland numerous times! Faced countless adversaries! Then she disappears and he spends years of his life searching for her! What does that get him? and angry bitch who doesn't remember a thing and seems to want to argue with him about every little detail of her life! He has told her everything! Down to the very last detail about their travels together, and she couldn't seem to care less! Now House, the number one most powerful man in this area, is out to kill him and probably his friends! His friends...

Luther... Tyler... They are all still with House!

* * *

He slips out from behind the steel door and slides it shut. What? A puzzled expression crosses his face as he stares at the door. When did he come down here? And for what purpose? He scratches his beard in thought. The last thing he remembers is thinking about they way House has been splitting them all up with their assignments. That and worry about why Nick and Veronica have been absent for so long. He is about to leave when he realizes there is something clutched in his hand.

Looking down there is a series of wires of all colors as well as a circuit board of some kind. What the hell is all of this crap? A biometric scanner? This is all military grade equipment. He recognizes some of it from the bunker in DC. What the hell is he doing with all of this? He should go talk to... Talk to... Who is he thinking about? He knows that he is supposed to know this person's name but, he can't recall. What is it? The man is a ghoul? Or is he a man and not a ghoul? Shit he can't remember! What the hell is wrong with him? As far as he knows this has never happened before. Wait, what if it has and he just can't remember it? Fuck!

He spins around, intending to go and talk to, to, to whoever the fuck it is, but freezes as he realizes he has no idea where he is. What the hell is this place? It looks like a service area or something. Picking a direction at random, he starts to wander. The walkways are narrow and all sorts of piping and electrical equipment cross his path. Eventually he stumbles upon an exit sign and follows it out.

He emerges into a posh casino like area, only it is empty. There are plenty of slot machines, card tables, and other ways of gambling, but no patrons. The only occupant is a securitron with a blank face screen. Curiously he walks over to the robot and knocks on its armor. The screen flashes for a moment before the face of a smiling cowboy appears. "Well howdy Mr. Luther. We've all been wondering where you got off to. The others are meeting in the high roller suit to discuss some big who-ha they are about to set off on. Told me to tell you if I saw ya, and now seeing as I've done both of those things, hows about we get you up to the meeting? Right this way." The robot gives him no time to respond and pushes him into the elevator. Luther? Right, that is his name. Wait, had he forgotten his own name? Is it something he should be concerned about or is it normal for him?

The elevator opens to the, what did the robot call it, the roller suit? The bot leads him to a room with a long dinning table around which there is gathered a multitude of people. There is a woman in a sleeveless coat with the Lucky 38 logo painted on the back, a ghoul dressed up as a gunslinger, a man wearing a red beret and sunglasses, a young girl who looks like a tribal, a blonde man in a science lab coat, and another ghoul dressed in heavy steel plate. Tyler! That is what the man's, ghoul's, name is! Tyler is the person he knows. Maybe Tyler will be able to tell him what all this junk he is carrying around is for. He goes to sit next to the ghoul, but the woman in the coat calls his name.

"Luther! There you are. We've been looking for you. Where have you been?" Luther stops in place mid-step and gives her a blank look. Who the hell is she? The woman quirks an eyebrow, "Okay, never mind. We went ahead and started without you. I'll catch you up. As you know Nick and Veronica were assigned to an op dealing with a potential riot at the NCR correctional facility. They were sent in almost a week ago and have not reported back. What is more, we have received info that just last night the facility was overthrown. We are organizing an search party to find them." She continues to speak, moving on to who is assigned with who and where they are supposed to search, but Luther is still frozen in place.

Tyler is staring at him with an odd expression, but Luther barely notices. His thoughts are moving at a mile per second. It does not help that there is a second set of thoughts mingling with his own.

Nick is in trouble!

 _He isn't important right now!_

We need to find him! What if he is hurt!

 _Why does it matter? he isn't your concern any more!_

He has always been my concern!

 _He is not your child!_

I've been with him since he left the vault. Where he was reborn...

 _Damn it all we are so close now! So very close! We cannot diverge from the path! We almost have control of everything! The Enclave can rise again! You can rebuild everything we love!_

Nick needs our help.

 _For fucks sake!_

Nick needs our help!

 _He can handle himself in..._

Nick needs my help.

 _LUTHER!_

"No!" Luther shouts out loud, hurling the items he had in his hand across the room and shattering a picture. Everyone turns to him with shocked expressions. Tyler has even risen from his seat and has a hand on his gun. Luther stares at Tyler. "Nick needs my help." For several long, tense, moments there is silence.

Tyler nods slowly and moves to stand in front of him. "He is right. Your idea is good Jane, but Luther and I know him best. We will be taking over this assignment."

Jane makes a disgusted noise and crosses her arms. "Excuse me? Just who the hell do you think you are talking to? I lead this team. Not you two."

Luther looks the woman in the eye. "I think we have all made ourselves clear to you already, we work for ourselves, not you." Jane's mouth hangs open and she looks as though she has been slapped. Luther runs his gaze over the others. "Stay here and waste time listening to her if you want, but I have a friend who is in danger." With that he turns and leaves, Tyler hot on his heals. Seconds later the young woman joins them, Kc. that is her name. The three of them enter the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor.

As the doors start to close, an arm is thrust through and forces them back open. Jane stands there, panting slightly with an angry expression on her face. She enters the elevator and the doors slam shut behind her. The three of them stare at her openly. "What?" She snaps. "I'm coming with you. I owe him that much after the way I've been treating him..." She struggles for a moment, "and the way I've been treating you."

Tyler and Kc seem to be happy with that, but a dark expression has clouded Luther's face and his eyes seem far off. In the back of his head a voice is whispering. Plotting. Telling how perfect this has turned out. Cut off the deathclaws hands, and it is far less dangerous.

 _Kill her. Kill her and leave her to rot. Then we can kill him and take control. Soon all will be revealed. We'll make this world great again. I will make this world great again!_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Lost and Loss

Veronica wakes up and is confused for a moment when she finds two shirts wrapped around her. She looks around and sees Nick asleep on the ground beside her, and he is shirtless. A flush appears in her cheeks and she looks away before thinking that he is asleep, he can't see her. She looks back at him and is struck by just how many scars he has. They crisscross his back in jagged lines. They can only be the result of having been whipped, savagely. She shudders to think about the pain it must have caused him. Of all the things she has learned about him, one of the most prominent is that he very rarely expresses pain. She has heard it a few times when he has talked about specific things in his past, but other than that he has remained totally stoic. That, and his crazy, while un-predictable, is trustworthy and worth listening to.

She tilts her head up and looks at the sky, wondering if there are any, 'crows', or red things communing with Nick right now as he sleeps. In all honesty, she hopes so. Thus far his visions, for lack of a better term, have proven to be correct each time. They could really use some guidance right now. Looking around the landscape looks the same in every direction. Endless wasteland stretching for miles and miles.

Nick stirs and after a moment sits up. She watches as he rubs his eyes and looks around them for a moment in confusion. Then recollection dawns on his face and his expression darkens. He stands, "We had better get moving before the sun is all the way up. Otherwise we will waste most of the cooler part of the day." Veronica stands and hands him his shirt. He pulls it on and without another word sets off, and she follows. For several hours they wander. And like them, Veronica's thoughts also wander. Thoughts about her family, the bunker, the brotherhood, and the elder race through her head. She misses them. Now more than ever. She wishes she had worked harder to make them realize that their current path would only lead them to destruction.

Maybe going to that vault had been the worst idea. Maybe she shouldn't have let little Jamie come with her. Maybe she should have just listened to the elder and not poked her head into places she didn't belong. Maybe then Jamie wouldn't be dead and she wouldn't be an outcast, useful only for supply runs. At least she learned from the ordeal. Never trust anyone fully. Not even if they are family. Not even if you loved them. The image of Christine appears unbidden in her thoughts and she scowls. The pretty young face vanishes and Veronica sighs audibly. Stupid woman. Stop falling for people who die or disappear.

Up ahead Nick has climbed to the top of a rise and is shading his eyes. He seems to be looking very intently at something. Hope blossoms inside her chest and she rushes up to stand beside him. She squints out through the almost blinding heat haze, and sees nothing but more wasteland. She shakes her head in frustration and looks harder. Now she can just barely make out what looks like an unusually small range of mountains. No, they are too close to be full fledged mountains. "What are those?"

Nick lowers his hands, "Looks like a stack of rock. That next to it may be large construction equipment. Maybe a mine? Or a Quarry? Either way it is the first thing aside from desert we have come across. We need shelter. There is a chance there could be something in there to help us, but..."

Veronica knows where he was going. "But we have no idea what else may already be living there." Nick nods. Veronica looks behind them. All she can see is their own tracks, nothing else. "Seems to me we don't have any choice."

"No," Nick shakes his head and starts walking, "we don't."

* * *

Jane stops for a moment and takes a long drink from her canteen. This is the second day of their search for Nick and Veronica, and so far they haven't made any progress. At least not any that she can tell. They started where the Correctional facility the two were sent to infiltrate, or at least, what was left of it. The entire place was a smoking ruin when they got there. There were some tracks leading away from the facility, but there was no way to tell which were the ones they needed. Luther seemed to pick a set at random and set off. Now they are stuck in the middle of the desert following a quickly fading set of tracks that have lead them into the middle of the desert. A campsite was found a few hours ago, but it was at least a day old, if not older. For whatever reason Luther is convinced these are the tracks they need. Jane has already figured out that all they will find at the end of this trail are two dead convicts.

She had been harboring hopes that she would be able to win some goodwill from Luther, Tyler, and Kc with this mission, but so far none of them have been willing to say any more than a few words to her. Kc is the only one of the three who has warmed to her in even the slightest way, and all that means is that the young tribal girl isn't too offended to mind walking together. "So," Jane starts, "can you tell me why those two hate me so much?"

Kc gives her a surprised look, "Because you are a bitch. Didn't you know that?"

Wow, talk about your slap to the face. The fact that the kid doesn't even seem to realize just how offensive that was makes it even worse. Is she really that bad? Nah, there is no fucking way. With a shrug she reaches a hand into a pocket and pulls out a strip of gum. She pops the overly sweet candy into her mouth and starts to chew thoughtfully.

So she sometimes takes advantage of peoples emotions to get her way. Sometimes she plays and blackmails her own crew to get their compliance with her overly complex plans. Maybe she gets bored and doesn't always finish her missions. So what? Does that make her a major bitch? Actually, now that she thinks about it, yeah it probably does. Whatever. She works for House. The rest of the wasteland can go fuck itself. Far as she is concerned, so long as things end up the way they are supposed to, House in power while the Legion and NCR are royally fucked, she is perfectly content.

She is surprised when the flashback starts. She sees herself sitting on a bench near a trashcan fire. Her gear is completely different than it is now and she looks younger. someone is sitting across the fire from her, and she can't make out a face, but she knows it is a friend. The two of them are discussing a job. The other person is stating something similar to what she just thought about House, claiming that there is no real point in fighting for a better wasteland when something else will just come along and destroy everything you built. She is surprised when her younger self takes offense. The memory shows her getting very angry and going on a long and honestly well spoken rant about how you have to fight for the future. How you have to always look at the better side of things. Always finish what you start, even if you fail in the end, all that matters is that you accomplished making that far.

The flashback ends abruptly and she finds herself rooted to the spot. What the hell? That sounded nothing like her. Or, did it? Is that really what she used to be like? Did she really have such idealistic views of the world? She shakes her head and realizes she has fallen behind. She sprints to catch up with the others. Once she draws level with them she checks her pipboy out of habit. Surprise crosses her face as she sees a marker she placed in the past. She activates it and a sense of dread takes over. "Shit."

The others stop and look at her. "What is it?" Tyler asked, sounding annoyed.

"We have to hurry. If these tracks are actually Nick and Veronica's then they are in serious trouble!"

She makes to push by them, but Luther grabs her arm, "What the fuck do you mean? What is up ahead?"

"A quarry. I've scouted it before. The entire fucking place is infested with deathclaws. It is the only other form of shelter around here. It is the only logical place for someone to go if they don't already know what is there. We have to get moving!"

* * *

Luther frantically jumps down a crevice in the rocks as the deathclaw rockets over his head and slams into the quarry wall. The leg he lands on gives out and he feels something snap. With a furious sound he lunges upwards and buries his knife into the soft tissue of the deathclaw's underbelly. With a savage jerk he slpits the beast open and recoils as hot blood and innards rain down. He reaches up and drags himself out of the hole. His leg is all but mangled from the fall.

Somewhere he hears the sound of Tyler and Kc goading a deathclaw as they fight furiously to survive. A scream pierces the air and Luther turns to see Nick pinned at the edge of the quarry cliff and a massive claw bearing down on him. Luther lifts his rifle to fire but the gun only clicks. With an animal sound he charges the beast! In his head a voice screams, matching the sound escaping his own mouth.

 _"YOU WILL NOT KILL HIM!"_

Just as the claw makes to swipe at Nick, Luther collides with it. The full weight of his body sends the deathclaw off balance and they both topple off the edge of the cliff. The claw roars, but Luther cannot hear. The claw buries its fierce talons into his back, but Luther cannot feel. The ground rushes up to meet them. All Luther feels is satisfaction. He did it. He saved his son.

The heavy steel door opens and Luther steps through. A genuine smile graces his tired face as he looks into the room where his wife is cradling his daughter in her arms. She looks up at him and smiles, holding the little girl out for him. He takes the small bundle and gently holds her against his chest. The face that looks up at him fills him with love and warmth. A small giggle escapes the girl as she reaches up and wraps her little fingers in his beard. A tear falls down his cheek. He has done it. He has saved his daughter. He his home.

* * *

Veronica watches in silence. Beside her is Jane and Kc. Never before has she heard a sound the likes of which she hears now. Never has she seen anything like what is before her. Nick, holding Luther's broken body in his hands, tears flowing freely down his face, and Tyler with his teeth bared, his head gripped in his hands, and on his knees in raw physical pain. Blood flows from all three of them, mixing together in the dirt of the wasteland. He is gone. Luther. He is dead.

Time seems to stretch on forever as they behold the sorrow before them. Nick exhasts his supply of tears and yet still he heaves and cries. Tyler rises from his kneeling position and places a hand on Nick's shoulder. Nick shakes him off but Tyler grabs him. "No more, he wouldn't want any more." Slowly Nick stands, still holding Luther in his arms. His mouth is set in a grim line and a fire more fierce than any Veronica has ever seen ignites in his eyes.

Nick passes between them and comes to a stop before Jane. The way he is holding Luther almost looks as though the is offering him to her. "House."

Some unspoken conversation transpires and Jane becomes panicked. "No."

"House." Nick repeats.

"Nick, no, he wouldn't do this. This isn't his fault. Luther choose to save you. House had..." Nick pushes past her and walks away. Veronica watches and remembers what he said. War never changes. Well, maybe not, but she is sure that he his about to start a war, and this one will be like no other.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: A House Divided

Jane sprints past Nick through the doors to into Freeside. He makes not attempt to stop her. It has been 12 hours since Luther died and Nick declared war, and in that time she has managed to gather as many of her allies as she could. Boone and Raul she already sent back to the 38, now she has Arcade and ED-E with her. Nick seems to be un-concerned about the fact that numbers are on her side. After all not only does she have her people, but also an army of securitrons as well. She had hopped that the NCR or the Boomers would be able to send support, but to no avail, both are tied up in the war effort and refuse to get involved in what Hsu calls, personal matters.

She flies past the Securitron checkpoint and runs full tilt into the Lucky 38. As soon as Arcade and ED-E are inside she slams the entrance shut and locks it. "Victor!" she shouts as they begin to construct a barricade, "contact House! If he does not already know warn him that we have enemies coming in fast!"

The robot rolls up to her with and bounces on its wheel. For a moment its screen goes blank, but is then replaced by the image of House. "Am I to understand that our former employees have turned against us? All of the ones you brought in out of the goodness of your heart? I did warn you about trusting that madman." Jane huffs, not this rant again.

"Yes, I realize now that I've done fucked up alright! Just do something to slow them down! We need time to fortify the tower!"

"I am already on it, I have mobilized a detachment of my drones. They should be coming up on them now."

Jane's heart skips a beat for a moment. This is for real. They are about to get into a battle with people they have been working with. They are about to fight a man who she was once very close with. "Just, don't kill them if you don't have to."

"Of course." House's face vanishes from the Securitron. A radio transmission is sent to the drones standing guard at the Vegas Checkpoint. Orders. House Protocol Override. Eliminate all organics that approach current location. Use of Deadly force Authorized. Kill on sight.

* * *

Tyler drops behind cover as a barrage of bullets tear apart a homeless guy in front of him. "Son of a bitch!" That bastard House is targeting civilians! He loads his sawed off and makes his way towards the checkpoint, moving from cover to cover in between barrages. He throws himself against the side of a building and looks across the street to where KC is kneeling behind a mailbox. "Hey," She looks over at him, "distract them!" Without any regret he throws a vial of psycho to her. She catches it out of the air and a wicked smile appears on her face. As she starts to shoot herself up, Tyler pulls some Ultrajet from his pocket. "I was saving this." He mumbles with a shrug.

The hit from the drug rushes through him like a tidal wave of radioactive water! Time seems to slow around him as he steps out from cover. The sawed off in his hand rises up and the trigger is pulled. He watches in fascination as the bullets streak through the air before colliding with the nearest Securitrons armor. Sparks fly as the machine was turned to the side, aiming at the spot where KC has opened fire with dual submachineguns. The drone he hit shutters and the tubing of its arm blasts apart in a shower of parts and flame.

He pulls the second trigger and the other round is loosed. This time two drones are hit. The first has its face plate shattered and falls to the ground. The second takes the hit and turns to him. It raises its gun arm and its fingers open to fire. Tyler jumps forward, to close for the thing to shoot, and grabs the bots arm. With a heave he flips it over then curbstomps its face until it dies. "Fucking Kill!" Something blurs past him. He looks up to see Nick thrusting a long slender sword through the body of a drone. The last of the Securitrons falls and Nick motions them over.

"We go in, incapacitate the others, then take out House. I don't want Jane or any of her people harmed." He gives Tyler a pointed look. "You understand?"

Tyler gives a small shrug of his shoulders. The UltraJet is still coursing through him, so he isn't really pay that much attention. "Sure, no killing. What about maiming?" KC nods vigorously. Nick gives a glare that leaves no questions. Killing will not be tolerated by him. Tyler crosses his arms and shakes his head. "Fine, you lead the way. This is your show." Nick turns and approaches the gate with that hooded girl he has been traveling with. KC and Tyler follow right behind.

As they enter New Vegas, it is clear right away that the people there knew they were coming. The usually busy streets are empty. There are no hookers or patrons outside Gammorah, and the city is eerily quiet. Tyler turns to KC, "keep close to me." she nods and lifts her dual SMG's to show she is ready. They turn to make the approach to the Lucky 38, but a gunshot cracks through the air. A spray of blood spurts from Nick and he is whipped around with a cry of pain. The group surges forward! Tyler and Veonica grab Nick and drag him to the door. They throw their backs against it, eyes watching the rooftops around them. "Nick, you alive?"

Nick stands, rolling his shoulder, he lets out another cry of pain and punches a wall. "I'll live. Bastard got me good though. Not going to be able to use a rifle."

KC hands him one of her guns and an extra magazine of ammo. "Right," Tyler says as he pulls at the doors, "seems we have another problem. They are likely dug in deep inside, we need a way in that will also give us some cover. Sounds like an explosive solution is in order." Pulling out a C4 charge, he quickly rigs the nearest door and stands. "We run down to the street, I blow the door, we run back up, and then hell breaks loose inside the casino. Sound good?"

Veronica gives him a wide eyed look, "You are crazy! All of you!" Tyler winks at her and sprints down to the road. The others let out yelps and hurry to catch up with them. The second his feet hit the pavement he detonates the package. The door blast out! Filling the air with smoke and debris. Wasting no time the group moves into the building. Immediately Tyler is hit in the chest with a ballistic round. Air rushes out of his lungs and he only just manages to slide into cover. His metal armor took the damage, but there will be a nasty bruise there, maybe a few broken ribs.

A mechanical beeping sound above him and he looks up to see an eye-bot charging its lasers! He reaches up and grabs the floating robot and pulls it to the ground. It lets out a distressed screech and blasts out several random laser bolts. Tyler holds it by the frame and slams an armored fist into its chassis, ripping out the core and sending it into shutdown mode. He kicks the now stunned bot away and gets his bearings.

Nick and Veronica have engaged two Securitrons in close combat near the bar. KC is pinned down behind an overturned pool table and taking heavy fire from the people defending the elevator. Tyler jumps up and blasts both rounds from his sawed off. The defenders take cover and he slides into position next to KC. "Miss me?" She grunts and lets off a burst of rounds. Quickly he reloads and fires again.

Across the room Veronica finishes off the last of the drones with her power gauntlet. She and Nick draw their guns and put pressure on the defenders position. "Fall back!" one of them shouts. "Fall back now!" Tyler stands and surges forward, shooting off his first bullet as the defenders back into the elevator. The doors close and Tyler lets off his second round, denting the metal of the door. He slams into the metal frame and digs his fingers into the crack. He struggles, barely making the doors budge. Nick appears next to him and together they pry open the doors. They are treated to a view of an empty shaft. Veronica pushes past them and does something inside the shaft. There is a loud crashing sound followed by the cables coming to a halt. "That should trap them," She says, "but we need to find another way up to House before they break out."

"Follow me." Nick growls through clenched teeth. He starts towards the back of the casino. They all follow. Tyler can't help but notice the way Nick is favoring his arm, and the large amount of blood staining his sleeve. Nick leads them to a back set of stairs. "Found this a few days ago, one of those times Luther vanished and we all had to look for him. He was wandering around in here with no idea where he was or what he was doing, or even how he got here. All he would say is that the House needed what he had."

They ascend the maintenance stairs quickly. They pass one section and Tyler is sure he can hear Jane and her people shouting at each other inside the elevator. Soon enough they emerge into the dimly lit penthouse. Quietly they move in. Tyler hangs back, he is no good with stealth. He keeps KC with him as well, not trusting her to understand they need to be quiet in her high state, not that he isn't still high, he is just more aware. He watches as Nick and Veronica approach a Securitron from behind and pull it down. How they manage to dispatch such a large bulky robot with such a small amount of noise is beyond him. Nick signals all clear and they move up.

"Fuck!" Nick growls as they enter the room with House's terminal, "he isn't here!" They fan out in the room. Tyler feels apprehension grip him, what if this was all for nothing? What if they killed there way up here only to find that House went and moved himself someplace else? "Veronica, see if you can find him," Nick commands, "Everyone else look for anything that might tell us where this bastard is."

Tyler starts to head into another room, but something in his pack suddenly vibrates. "What the..." He shrugs off his pack and digs around. Eventually he finds the object in question. It is a biometric scanner, Luther gave it to him before they went looking for Nick. He stands and holds the device out in front of him. It vibrates in his hands. He steps towards the massive terminal, and it stops. He frowns and walks towards the wall. The device starts vibrating again. It increases in strength until he is standing right in front of the wall. Now what? He is about to start in another direction, when there is a loud noise. It sounds like a vault door opening. The wall lurches, then slides backwards before lowing into the floor, exposing a whole other room.

The others, drawn by the noise, look in awe. "Found something." Tyler growls with a grin.

"No shit." Nick murmurs. "Good work." They move into the room. Inside are all sorts of old terminals and computer parts. "What the hell is this place? Some sort of command center?"

"It would explain how House is never seen, but not where he is." Veronica mutters. "Here, another room, I can get us in." She hacks a computer and another set of doors open, revealing a dark room with a strange glow coming from the far side.

"I don't like this." KC mutters. Tyler has to agree.

Nick grunts and moves past them into the room. Tyler looks at the others and nods, they follow slowly. They find Nick standing next to what looks like some weird metal cocoon or something. "It is him. He is in there." Veronica goes to another nearby terminal and activates it. Her fingers fly across the keyboard furiously.

"I think I can open it, but It might kill him and possibly cause a meltdown of his network. Vegas would loose power for a bit and any information he has stored in here could be lost."

"Open it." Nick growls.

"If we do we will loose all of the work he has done. Everything he has stored here, all his knowledge, will be gone. We would be destroying centuries worth of information that could help hundreds of people out in..."

"He had his chance to help." Tyler interrupts her. "He chose to sit up here and not use it."

"Open it." Nick repeats.

Veronica hesitates for a moment, but then nods. She types in a set of commands, then stands back. At first nothing happens, but then the pod lets out a loud hiss and gas is vented from the sides. The seal breaks open and the pod slides back. A stand is raised and set upright. Tyler has to do a double take. The thing strapped to the pod barely looks human, let alone alive. Almost like himself, like a ghoul, the body is rotten. Only this thing looks to not have eaten in hundreds of years. All manor of tubs are attached to it, feeding it, keeping it alive longer than it should. The body jerks and shutters, pathetic, like a child. They eyes are blind and the mouth hangs open, limp. Tyler is about ready to think that just opening the pod has killed it, but then it speaks.

"Why have you... done this?... Centuries of preparation... so much good... undone." The works are spoken, but the mouth barely moves and it sounds like sandpaper scratching against wood.

"You killed my friend. You killed Luther after driving him insane!" Nick turns to Veronica, "He is wearing a neural interface, see if you can give him a shock." Veronica complies and archs of electricity spark across the skeletal body. It screams in agony, but keeps living. "You tried to kill me," Nick shouts over the screams, "You tried to kill my people! You corrupted and used one of the only good souls left in the world!" The electricity stops. Nick draws a pistol and shoves it under House's chin, "But most of all, I don't like you."

BANG!

* * *

Jane stops dead. She had managed to slip out of the small gap in the elevator doors they had opened and sprint up to House's control room. She had her gun in her hand and had it aimed at Nick's back, ready to shoot, but he beat her. He got there first. He killed House. "No," she whispers, "No!" Now it is a scream. Nick turns and looks her in the eye. The expression there, it does something. It unlocks her brain. All the memories come flooding back. All the things he did. All his madness that drove her away from him. She remembers it all. That look in his eyes, the same look of the murderer who killed all those people. She sinks to her knees, unable to face all the truths she had locked away in her own brain.

One by one Nick's people walk by her, until it is just the two of them. He stares at her, somehow she can tell that he is aware she has her memory back. "So," she says in a shaky voice, "you finally found me." He pulls the hammer of his gun back, but does not raise it. "You finally managed to track me down and trick me into your grasp." He approaches her, emotionless eyes glued to hers. "Going to finish what you started? Going to put a bullet in my head? They already tried that. It didn't work." He crouches down so he is level with her. "I'm a witness, is that it? You have to kill me because I saw what you did?" He tilts his head to the side. "Do it then, I don't have anything left to live for. Do it and end me. Kill that last person who knows what you truly are. The last person who knows you are nothing more and a murderer! Come on! Do it!"

His hand comes up and she flinches, but he just caresses her cheek gently. "It is okay." He says soothingly, "It is all okay now. I killed him. He can't hurt you any more, Jane." He stands. "Vegas is yours. Do with it what you please. I will not stand in your way. I am leaving." He walks past her. She is frozen in place by shock. "Hey," she turns to look at him. There is a longing expression in his eyes, "I am not sorry, If you need me," he points at her pipboy, "you know how to find me." For the second time in her life he turns and abandons her. Abandons her in the what is left of the ruin he created.

* * *

Across the wasteland, a man shields his eyes from the harsh rays of the sun. This is his first time back on the surface for two hundred years, but to him it is as if he were there yesterday. All around him is destruction. Death. Decay. Gone is the world he knew. Lush and green. Filled with life. In its place is this sun baked land where there seems to be nothing alive. "My God." he cries, sinking to his knees. How can one live in this world. Then determination fills him. He has to find his son. He has to. He stands and loads the pistol he took from a corpse. He is a soldier. He has a mission. He will save his son, no matter the costs.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! I know right, where the hell have I been? I would first like to apologize for my extended absence. I was in a position where updating, or working on the story at all, was impossible. Not to worry though, I am back. With this chapter, I am concluding this section of Nick's story, but don't worry, he will be back. That is right folks, we are talking fallout 4 and all its glory! Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. If you would like for me to do anything more with Jane's story, please let me know. Also, I do plan on giving Tyler and KC their own short spin off very soon. Please leave a review and a favorite if you liked the story! Until next time!**


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